An Age of this World
by HoshikoIzumi
Summary: "At first, it was only his hand, but as he flexed it more and more, he brought his arm up and groaned." I love this chapter! But I only have two reviewers! I need more! R+R!!
1. Prologue

**I am currently working on two stories. One with The-Hobbit-Fanciers, and one here on my own. I hope you enjoy, good luck, good readin'!**

**~Hoshiko**

Prologue

A figure shrowded in gray rode his horse through the woods of Imladris. Nothing stopped him, or moved in the forest as it would have thousands of years ago. The place was desolate, and nothing seemed alive. 

He stopped his horse in front of the buildings, and dismounted. The walls of every building were covered in vines, and some statues were starting to fall apart. It was nothing close to what it had been, in the second age, in the age of it's glory. Elrond had long sense departed, and no one had really kept it up. Statues had been broken and ravaged, being sold as 'Elfish Items' by dark men. They had no respect for the serenity of the place, the water that still gushed from the Bruinen. 

Bruinen… it hadn't been called that for many years. No one came, and no one wondered, for there was nothing much to wonder at any more; the place was all but deserted. 

The man looked around and shook his head, taking off his cloak's hood. This revealed his features. He was an elderly man, with a long, gray beard, and bushy eyebrows. The eye-bags hinted he was over sixty years old, and indeed he was. He had been in this earth for over three thousand years of men. He climbed the stairs, and walked through the halls, as if looking for something. In due time he found what he was looking for, and knocked on a large mahogany door. No one answered, but he let himself in anyway. 

When he opened the door a large hall was revealed to him. Everything was in perfect condition, and a fire was roaring in the hearth. At the end of a long table there was a chair, turned to the window. 

'I was wondering when you would come, Brendalin…' a deep voice said, with an accent that hadn't met the old man's ears for years. He couldn't help but crack a smile. 

'Relnohen… It has been a long time.' He said, and made his way to the side of the chair where a figure stood next to him. The figure revealed an elf, with light-brown, almost red hair, and vibrant green eyes. In his eyes were great wisdom as such that world hadn't seen in a long time, with an ageless face. He wore robes of the master of Imladris, and a circlet was rapped around his head. He smiled at the sight of the old man and nodded. 

'Yes it has, Brendalin. I am sorry to say that Imladris isn't as comfortable as it was years ago, if you are looking for a place to stay.' He said, and Brendalin shook his head. 

'No, thank you. I am here on urgent business.' A frown crept up onto Relnohen's face, and he furrowed his brow. 

'You are not telling me-?'

'Yes… it has been found.' 


	2. Mysterious Gift

**=D Ok!!! How are you, my friend? Well, here's my second chappy, hope you like, bye!**

**~:Hoshiko**

Mysterious Gift

Ondril Baggins sat outside his hobbit-hole, and took his pipe out of his mouth. It was 4012, Shire Reckoning, in the Fourth Age. He was turning 45 in a week, and everything was going as planned. His birthday would come, and the Tooks, and Brandybucks, and Gardiners, and everyone would be invited. His plan was to have it as he had always heard of in the old stories about a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. 

I believe now would be a good time to describe Ondril Baggins. He was a hobbit, nothing arguing against that. He shared the slightly heavy built body, and large, furry feet. He had blue eyes, and dark brown hair. He lived in the Shire, and ate his six meals a day, enjoying ale and pipe-weed (preferably Lane-Toby) and lived in a hobbit hole in Hobbiton. 

But there was something different about Ondril. He was a past-reader; that is, he studied the history of Middle-earth. When he had just come of age he did some research, and found that his great – great- (there are many more, exactly 28 'greats' in all, but we will not count them) Uncle was a hobbit by the name of Frodo Baggins, the fabled hobbit from the old stories. From then on Ondril was a very proud hobbit. Over the years, the family name had been changed from Baggins to Baffins, to Braggen, and many more, finally falling into Broggins. When he found out his ancestry, he changed his last name back to the beginning, back to Baggins. If he had anyway of knowing, he would have been more pleased at the fact that he looked exactly like his many-great-uncle in every way. 

He sat there, thinking of his plans, until he saw an elderly man walking up the pathway. Being slightly wary of strangers, he stood, and when the man stopped, he shifted uneasily. 

'Yes?' he asked, and a smile cracked on the old man's face. Ondril became a bit suspicious at that smile. 'Yes, what would you like, sir?' he asked, and the old man switched his staff into his other hand. 

'Are you Ondril Broggins?' he asked, and Ondril nodded. 

'Yes…' he said, and in his mind ran the thought of something he had read before. Before he knew it, his mouth was speaking with out his brain thinking first. 'Gandalf?' he asked, and to his surprise, the old man laughed. It was a full, hearty laugh, and it calmed the small hobbit down a little. 

'Yes… some people have mistaken me as him before, but if I did not know better, I would say you were Frodo Baggins.' He said, and Ondril raised an eyebrow. 'I remember when Frodo used to walk this very road to get to this very hobbit-hole; it used to be called Bag End.' 

'As it still is. Who are you?' 

'My name, young hobbit, is Brendalin. I am a Wizard.' Brendalin said, and Ondril's eyes opened wide. 

'A wizard?' 

'Yes, an Istari of the third age. I was sent here when Gandalf's tasks were over, to take off where he let off.' 

'But that is impossible.' Said Ondril, gathering his senses. 'A wizard has not been seen in this part of the Shire for-'

'And age of this earth.' Brendalin said, finishing his sentence. 'I am Brendalin the gray.' He said, and Ondril stared at him in disbelief. After a long moment of silence, Ondril found himself inviting Brendalin into his house. 

'Tea?' Ondril asked, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Oh, certainly, thank you.' The wizard said as he poured hot tea into a cup that was much too small for the Istari. 

'Why have you come?' Ondril asked as Brendalin looked around the room. 

'I have come to- bring you something. A gift, if you will.' The bent wizard said, and the Tookish side of Ondril (his grandmother was a Took) became frightfully interested. 

'A gift?' 

'Yes, left to you by your uncle Frodo. He went on an adventure, Master Ondril, weather you know of it or not. On this adventure he acquired a stone, a precious jewel, though he was hardly aware. How it fell into his possession is a mystery, and I doubt the answer will ever be found. It was given to me by Gandalf those thousands of years ago, and I was told to only give it to one of Frodo's relatives when I though they were ready. Well, I believe you are ready, Ondril, and here it is.' He said, and handed Ondril a small bag with one lone, round jewel in its depths. 'Keep it safe, and tell no one of it, not until I tell you that you must.' 

'Thank you, sir, I think… now… is there anything else?' 

'Yes, there is. In an envelope in this very house, there is a note that you must read. I believe you will find the envelope behind a brick in the fireplace. Now, I must be off, and I hope our friendship will last, Ondril.' The wizard said, and Ondril took his out-stretched hand. 

'Yes, of course. Now, if would like me to, I'll show you to the door.' Ondril said and started for the door. When he turned around, though, Brendalin had disappeared. 'Brendalin?' he asked, not finding him. He shrugged it off, though, and looked at the small bag in his hand. 

It was strange- he had trusted the Wizard, if that was what he really was, quickly, with no real reason. Something seemed… pleasant, though, about the man. But Bilbo Baggins, if the story held true, had trusted Gandalf quickly. He put the stone in on the fireplace, and quite forgot about it. 

Ondril looked about his hobbit-hole, and sighed contently to himself. It was very neat and tidy, as it had always been. Today was his birthday, and he could see the hobbits outside, setting up for his party. Outside he could hear the working of Bromwine Gardener, surname serving him correctly, for she was his gardener.

Brom was ten years younger than Ondril, with curly, golden hair, and brown eyes. His father was a very heavy-set hobbit whom went by the name of Granwine, all decendents of Samwise the Brave, the original Gardiner. They were a kind bunch, as most Gardiner's were, and terribly fast talkers. The family, he had learned, had inherited thousands of gold coins from their founder, Samwise, though it had been so spread out in the thousands of years you would not have known it. 

He was whistling a rather happy tune while working today, and when the noon-bell rang at noon, he could see his head peek just over the bottom of the window. He wiped some sweat from her brow, and smiled in on him. It was in the middle of September, but it was still rather hot. 

'Hello, Ondril!' he said cheerily, and walked into the door. 'How are you today?' 

'I'm wonderful Brom.' 

'They're setting up for a big party, I see.' Brom said as he washed his hands at the wash-tub. 'I hear it's for Halfast.' He said, and the twinkle that was normally in Ondril's eyes faded. 

'For who?' he asked, going slightly pale. 

'You know, Halfast Brace-girdle?' he said, as he rushed over to the window he smiled contently with himself. The script on the sign clearly stated 'Happy 45th Ondril Baggins!' When he looked out the window Brom burst out laughing, and he regained color. 

'Wonderfully funny, Bromwine, absolutely brilliant.' He said, but couldn't keep the smile from his face. 

'Well it serves you right, you were getting pretty high on your cloud, if you get my meaning.' Brom said, and he shook his head. They ate lunch together, and their seconds half and hour after that. They then went down to the Mithril Coat afterwards, and as they walked down the road they chatted happily. 

The Shire looked as it always had. Vibrant greens and other bright colors filled the area. In 3526 the Shire had to be totally re-grown after the great fire. Most homes had been destroyed except for the ones on Bagshot Row. They were virtually untouched, and most of the hobbits had dismissed it as pure luck, but some said there was some funny things going on. Nothing could stop a fire that huge. But, no one was alive who remembered it, and it was dismissed over the hundreds of years. 

The rest of the Shire, however, had to be rebuilt. Pubs were redone, and new hobbit-holes were rebuilt. The Green Dragon had perished so much in this fire, that it had to be totally cleared, and rebuilt. They called the new pub the 'Mithril Coat,' for the story was very well remembered, and everyone loved it. 

Besides that, little had changed in the Shire. Besides the fact that it had spread out to the Tower Hills, and part of Anor, it was still the Shire. Everyone dressed the same as they had for thousands of years, and talked with the same accent. If you were to sleep for hundreds of years, and wake up later, you wouldn't know you had slept more than a day. The hobbit's culture and way of living had been successfully preserved. 

When Ondril and Brom opened the door to the pub, they were greeted by cheers and cat-calls from the hobbits in the pub. A younger hobbit immediately recognized them, and jumped up, shoving two ales into their hands. 

'And here he is!' the young Brandybuck said, clapping Ondril on the back. Ondril took the ale, and guzzled down half of it. 

'I promised a party, and a party we will have!' he said, and the young hobbit showed them to his table. 

'So, Teriadoc, what did you do all day?' Brom asked, and Terry made a face like he was in extreme pain; it was his thinking face. 

'Well, I… went into a farmer's crops… with the help of Param, of coarse, and… then ran from him because he had heard us laughing… and… came here for a few ales before the party!' he said triumphantly, remembering his day successfully. He raised an eyebrow in a very manly 'so what do you think about that?' way, and Brom shook his head.

'Terry, how much have you had to drink today?' 

'Enough.'

'I see.'  Ondril laughed, shook his head, and when his other cousin Param sat down he was surprised to receive a rather large hug. 

'Ondril, cousin, old pal!' Param exclaimed, and threw his arms around his older cousin. When he let go he held out the half-eaten part of a carrot. 'Carrot?' 

'No…' Ondril said, declining the offer. Param shrugged it off, though, and took a rather large bite, followed by a gulp of ale. 'So, when are you going down for the party, father says he's ready for you at any time now.' 

'Oh? You were just there?' 

'Well…no… but I thought you might like to hear that. It's been ready for a while now.' Param said, and Ondril laughed. Param and his younger cousin Terry were both very young, hyper, hilarious hobbits. Param was twenty-eight, and Terry was even younger, about twenty-two. 

'Down to the party we go, then!' Terry announced, and hopped up. He staggered a little bit, but with the help of Param they were off down to the party together. Brom was still shaking his head, and downed his last bit of ale. 

'Come along, Brom, we don't want those two out alone with all that food.' Ondril said, and did the same as Brom had just done. They then stood, and helped each other out to the Party Tree. 


	3. Truth Revealed

**Thanks to the total two reviewers! I love you, ja!**

**~Hoshiko**

Truth Revealed

The next few years of Ondril's life went as it had the past years of his life. In eight years he had totally forgotten about his gift from the Istari, and had practically forgotten the Istari himself. Nothing changed about Ondril, until one night, exactly eight years later, on his fifty-third birthday. 

            Ondril sat up, sweating, looking around his bedroom. He had just had one of _those_ dreams again. Recently he had been having dreams about the Red Book. He had been dismissing them, he had had dreams like this before, but none of them had been as violent as this one. 

He was sitting in the dark, he couldn't move, his breathe had to come in short gasps because there was no air. He had started, and woken up from a dream, gasping for breathe. When he did another body jumped up, and went over to him. 

'Frodo, Frodo, it's all right!' he had said soothingly, and hugged Ondril. Ondril pulled away and looked at the hobbit's face. 

'Brom?' He had asked, and the hobbit shook his head. 

'No, Mr. Frodo, it's me, Sam.' He said, and Ondril had woken up. That had been strange, but real… as if he had done it before. The other hobbit had looked exactly like Brom, and he had sounded like him too. These types of dreams had been more vivid and realistic than the others… more frightening. He wiped the sweat from his face and swung his legs off the bed. He needed some tea. 

He took his cup out of his cupboard, and set it down on his table. He started the fire again, and put a kettle of water on to boil. While it boiled he sat down in his chair, and propped his head onto his hands. 

Sam

Frodo

They were all names he had heard before; both were in the Red Book. He got up and got his only, precious copy of it from his bookshelf. The letters on the front were fading, but it was a rather recent copy. The leaves of paper were white and new, and nothing had fallen out or been hurt. It was the only existing copy he knew of. 

He opened it, and started in the middle of the book he had started reading when something made him stop. 

'Mr. Frodo?' a voice called, and he stopped. He looked around frantically, and turned totally around to see a vaguely familiar scene in front of him. The fire in the hearth had suddenly grown, and there were transparent figures in front of him. Sitting next to the fire was another copy of himself, and walking in the door way was Brom; well, it looked like Brom. He opened the door slowly, and walked slowly over to the transparent-Ondril. Brom put his hand on his shoulder, and he looked up, startled. 

'Mr. Frodo, are you all right?' he asked, and though the transparency looked rather pale, he smiled and nodded.

'Yes, Sam, I'm fine.' He said, and Sam shook his head. 

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, Sam, go to sleep.' Frodo said, and Ondril was surprised to find himself saying what Frodo was along with him. Sam nodded, and slowly left, glancing back at Frodo before closing the door. Frodo turned back to the fire, and Ondril wandered over to the chair next to him. He sat, and looked at Frodo, reading the features on his face. He looked exactly like him, down to the small freckle on his arm. He reached out to touch the figure, but his hand passed through, startling him. He took his hand away, and something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. 

Something on the mantle was glowing. Curiosity over took him, and he stood, going over to it. He glanced to see that Frodo was still there, and he put his hand on the thing that was going. It was the gift that the strange old man had given to him years before. He opened the bag, and took it out. It was glowing a rather strange red color, and as he passed his finger over the writing the transparent scene vanished. He looked around again, but everything was as it had been. He looked back down at the stone, and stared into it. It seemed suddenly captivating. 

It was a moment before he realized what was happening. Memories were flooding back into his head, memories of the hobbit that looked like Brom, and many others. When he could see his room again, he shook his head. 

''What is going on?' He said to himself, and looked down at the stone in his hand. The glowing had stopped. He fingered it, and put it back into the bag on the mantle. He got his tea, and while he was drinking it, he rubbed his hands together. 

He did not ever remember acquiring the stone, when had he received it? He could not remember. He sat there in his chair for the rest of the night, trying to figure out when he had come into possession of it. 

Ondril was awoken the next morning by a loud banging on his front door. He blinked his eyes sleepily and found that he had fallen asleep at his dinning room table. He stood up sleepily, and when he answered the door he found the strange visitor he had received years ago standing there again. 

'Ondril Baggins. Or shall I say Frodo?' he said, and smiled. 'We meet again.' Ondril stepped to the side, letting the Istari in. 

'You're not Brendalin, you really are Gandalf, aren't you?' Ondril asked, and Brendalin shook his head, putting down his staff. 

'No, Ondril, I'm sorry to say that you're accusation is wrong. I am very similar to him, but I am not. He left with you over the sea an age ago.' He said, and Ondril looked down, disappointed. 'I believe you have realized your past, and have a question, perhaps?' 

'Yes, I do. What am I doing here, again? What happened to me in Valinor?' 

'Ah, I am sorry, Ondril, but I do not quite know. I have been over here the time you were in the west. I believe, though, that you died Ondril. When it was seen what would come, you were needed again. Only you, my dear Baggins, would be chosen for another task as this. You are the only one.' he said, sounding so much like Gandalf that a shiver passed through Ondril while he remembered the deep, dark halls of Moria. 

'And what about Brom? He was-'

'Samwise Gamgee. I realize this, but he does not. You are the only one whom remembers who they are, and it will stay that way for quiet some time. I warn you, let them remember on their own.' He said, and Ondril nodded. The foreboding in his voice was very convincing. 'Now, the stone Ondril.' Ondril nodded, and led Brendalin to the dining room. He retrieved it from the top of his fireplace, and put it in the middle of the table. 

'What task?' Ondril asked, and Brendalin looked at the stone. 

'Mr. Baggins, you have in your possession a precious gem of the second age. _The_ precious gem, if you will. Its name is the Lóndësarn. Dusk Stone. Yet another tool of the Dark Lord. Enchanted with Dark Magic it is the final decision to weather Sauron lives or not.'

'But when the Ring was destroyed, so was Sauron, right?' Ondril asked, becoming exceedingly worried. 

'No. Gandalf, impossible as it may seem, was wrong. It destroyed him only for a certain period of time. He is back, and beckoning for his old followers.' 

'But there has been no orc-sightings for centuries.' Ondril argued, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Hiding in the shadows, leaderless, awaiting the rise of a new Dark Lord. They have started to hear his call again, and they are multiplying. They will soon be a known race again.' There was a silence, and when Brendalin saw fit he continued. 

'Sauron created the Lóndësarn shortly after the One Ring. The spell cast upon it turned it black, and became imprinted on its surface.' He said, and Ondril picked it up, looking at the letters. 

'It's in the black-speech, isn't it?' 

'Yes. It says thus: "The Black Power, if ever failing, the Black Power that has been thrown down,

The Black Power that will be resurrected, the Black Power, this stone will be its crown" It must be destroyed, Ondril, or it will recreate the Ring and Sauron.' He said, but when he saw the look in Ondril's eyes his expression softened. 

'I must go again?' Ondril asked, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Yes, Ondril. We only trust you.' Brendalin said, and Ondril looked down in deep thought. 

'Must I leave right away?'

'Yes.' 

'Alone?'

'Alone?' Brendalin said, suddenly laughing. 'If I know that Gardener, he is here somewhere, listening.' He said, and looked near the window. The tall sunflowers were shaking a slight bit, and the Istari stood. 

'Bromwine Gardener, show yourself!' he said, and the rustling stopped. Slowly, cautiously, the top of a head was showing itself, eventually turning into the face of Brom. 

'Hello, sir.' He said, and the Wizard beckoned him closer with his finger. 

'Come here, Bromwine, I know you can remember me.' He said, and Brom walked through the door slowly, head hung. He made it to Brendalin and he looked down at the ground, ready to be yelled at. He was surprised, however, when Brendalin smiled. 

'Mr. Gardener, you realize that you have heard a very secret conversation, don't you?'

'Yes.' Brom's voice came out as a squeak, even though the tone of Brendalin was very kindly. 

'You will pay for your actions.' 

'I know.' 

'I suspected you would. You will leave with Ondril tomorrow, he'll know where to go.'

'Yes, sir.' 

'Now go home and pack your things, you will do no more gardening today.' He said, and when Brom didn't move, he pointed to the door. 'Good-bye!' he said, and Brom jumped and ran for the door, hurrying out quickly. Ondril shook his head at the hobbit that had just slammed the door. 

'Poor Brom, wizards have always frightened him terribly.' He said, trying not to laugh. Brendalin, however, chuckled to himself. 

'Maybe next time he will not listen in on world-fatal conversations.' He said, and turned back to Ondril. 'Come along, now, you should pack.' He said, and Ondril nodded, leaving the stone on the table. He packed clothes, food, his pipe, and put the stone in his front pocket. It was only the size of a grape, he wanted to make sure not to loose it. When he had made sure he had everything, Brendalin offered him a chair, and Ondril sat. 

'You must go to the town of Nolner, where I will have someone waiting for you. If I do not come, do not worry, I will meet you in Rivendell.' 

'There is still such a place?' Ondril asked, and Brendalin sat up strait. 

'Yes, of course! Did you think such a place would be destroyed?' he asked, and Ondril rubbed his hands together. 'Now, I will meet you there. The Shire's border's end before Nolner, so you must be especially careful.' He said while Ondril glanced at the sun veiled in a red light. 

'Nazgul… are there any thing like Nazgul about?' he asked, and Brendalin shook his head.

'I do not know, Ondril. The hour came sooner than I thought it would have, I could not gather all information.' He said, and Ondril nodded. 'Stay off the road, though.' 

'Of coarse.' Ondril said, and kept his stare out the window. After a moment Brendalin put his hand on Ondril's shoulder. 

'Get some sleep, master Baggins. You have a long journey tomorrow.' He said, and Ondril nodded, getting up, and leaving for his bed. He could hardly fall asleep, and when he woke up the next morning Brendalin had gone. 


	4. Of All Hobbits!

**Got another chapter! I like this one, it's funny… I think =P so, read, enjoy, and review! I need reviews! Pwease!**

**~Hoshiko**

Of All Hobbits!

            Ondril woke up the next morning to someone shaking him. He opened his eyes slowly to find Brom standing next to him. 

'Come on, Mr. Ondril, wake up.' He said, and Ondril groaned, sitting up. 

'Thank's Brom, I'll be out in a minute.' 

'Not a problem, Mr. Ondril.' Brom then left, and Ondril got dressed. He dressed in his traveling clothes, and put on his pack. He walked out to the hall to find Brom waiting patiently for him. 

'Are you ready, Mr. Ondril?' Brom asked, and Ondril smiled.

'Yes, Brom, come along, we've got a long road a head of us.' Ondril said, and Brom nodded, letting Ondril leave first, and closed the door behind him. 

They walked for a good part of that day until lunch time, when they stopped to set up a fire. When they had a nice fire going, and both had settled down with a nice pipe, Brom turned to Ondril. 

'Mr. Ondril?' he asked, and Ondril took his pipe out of his mouth. 

'Yes, Brom?'

'Does that wizard Brendalin remind you of someone?' he asked, and Ondril nodded. 

'Yes, he does. Of course, if you've ever seen a wizard, then you know they all look very similar.' Ondril said, wondering if Brom was remembering being Sam. He was disappointed, though, when Brom looked back at the sky. 

'Well, you know rightly that I've never been outside the Shire before, but I've known Mr. Brendalin for a few years.' 

'Oh?'

'Yes, he came up to me about eight years ago, and said 'Hello, Master Gardener,' and I said 'Hello, sir, can I help you?' and he nodded. 'Yes,' he said, 'I believe you can. That hobbit, calls himself Baggins, he's your employer?' and I says 'yes, he is.' He then smiled warmly, and I found myself talking with him about you, and your age, and other things.'

'So that's how he came to know where I live.' Ondril said, and Brom nodded. 

'Yes, sorry sir…' he apologized, but Ondril laughed. 

'It's perfectly all right, Brom. In fact, I thank you.' Ondril said, and though Brom didn't say anything, a smile crept onto his face. They ate their lunch, and started out again. They walked until nightfall, and stopped again, making camp for the night. When they did, they ate dinner, second dinner, and finally supper. By then they were quite full, and they put their blankets down, laying on them. 

'Every where I lie, there's a great big root in my back…' Brom complained, and Ondril smiled. He had said that last time. 

'Just pretend you're in your own bed, with a nice soft pillow under your head.' Ondril said, and Brom was quiet for a moment. He quickly sighed, though. 

'It's no use, Mr. Ondril, I'll never get to sleep like this.' Brom said, and Ondril just kept quiet to himself. If Brom kept saying things like this, he'd have to remember soon. They went to sleep soon, though, and woke in the middle of the next morning. They made breakfast, and were on their way soon. 

They were nearing the end of the Shire by the end of the next day, and when they started to eat dinner they could hear a sound in the distance. It was a shriek, like the last breath of a dying animal, and it made both of them stop what they were doing. When they dared to move again, Brom looked at Ondril. 

'M-Mr. Ondril?' he stuttered, and they heard it again. 'What's that?' Now, Ondril had thought, when he was Frodo, that he would never forget the fear that a shriek like that put into his heart. This proved him wrong. He had forgotten, and being reminded of it sent shivers down his spine. 

'I don't know, Brom…' he lied, and they resumed eating, listening carefully for the sound again. It was a good time before they heard it again, but when they did they found it much closer. Brom was about to say something, but he had no time because something jumped out of the bushes at them. 

Both hobbits screamed as two other small bodies ran into them, knocking them to the ground. When the two other bodies picked themselves up, they heaved a deep breath. 

'Brom!' one voice said, it was Param. 

'Param, what are you doing here?' Brom asked, and Terry stood off of Ondril. 

'Being chased.' He said, and when Ondril was about to comment they could hear the shrieks again, even closer.

'Run!' Param cried, and he picked up Ondril and Brom's things, sprinting the other way. The others followed him, and when Ondril looked back he saw a rider in black jump out of the foliage. 'Faster, Terry!' Param screamed, as Terry was lagging behind. 

'What do you have in this thing?' Terry cried, and Brom fell back, grabbing his pack from Terry. They then sprinted full towards the river. The black rider was gaining on them, and he groped for Ondril's cape. It caught some of it, but luckily it couldn't hold onto the horse and Ondril at the same time, and had to let go. 

It shrieked one last time, and had to stop when they ran into a patch of trees, turning. They could hear others answering it. 

'What was that?' Terry asked, collapsing against a tree. Param threw himself on the ground, and Brom looked out from the patch of trees. 

'Black riders?' Brom asked, and Param shook his head.

'They just started chasing us!' he said, and Ondril turned to him. 

'What were you doing out so late?' Ondril asked, and Param looked down. 

'We were… erhm… yes, well, you see…' he trailed off, not finding an explination. 

'You were sneaking about Barley's farm, weren't you?' he asked, and Terry took out some potatoes, carrots, and mushrooms. 

'He's going to have your tales when we get back.' Brom said, shaking his head in disbelief. Param smiled anyway, and took a rather large bite of a carrot. Terry suddenly yawned, and rubbed his eyes.

'It's late, let's worry about it tomorrow…' he said, and practically fell asleep on the tree he was leaning on. Param rolled his eyes, and helped Terry on the ground. 

'Come along, Ter, you big lug.' He said, and Brom came back in. 

'They think we've kept going, I think. I saw three other ones going on the other side of the trees.' He said, and took Ondril over to the side. 

'Mr. Ondril, what were they doing after those two? Of all hobbits!' he said, and Param squinted at them in the dark. 

'I heard that!' 

'I don't know, Brom, but their not friends. We shouldn't travel any longer until daylight.' Ondril said, and got out his blankets and bedroll. Brom did the same while Param leaned against a tree. Before they knew it, they were asleep. The black rider chasing them had been more frightening and tiring than any of them could imagine before stepping out of the door. 

Ondril woke up the next morning to the mumbling of someone outside the trees. Thinking it was a black rider, he froze. Suddenly Param cried out in shock when something sharp poked into his side. 

'Oi! Here you are, you little thieves!' a voice said, and a hand appeared grabbing Param out of the trees. 

'Param!' Ondril cried, and woke the other two who had been asleep. Terry immediately jumped up, and grabbed Param's ankles, but he was dragged out too, and when he totally disappeared, Brom and Ondril jumped out of the trees. 

'So it was you two, as I figured.' The attacker said. It was Farmer Barley, and he was fuming. 'I was searching for you for the whole night. Wait 'till your parents hear this, they'll swat you good!' he said, and started to drag a protesting Terry and Param away from the trees. 

'Wait, Farmer Barley!' Brom said, and Barley turned. When he saw Brom he smiled. 

'Hello, lad. What were you two fine hobbits doing with these troublemakers?' he asked, and Ondril smiled. 

'Please, sir, we know you're angry with them, but they've had a rough night. We were chased last night, and-' 

'Chased, you say?' Barley said and his expression hardened. 'Who was chasing you?' 

'They actually started chasing them, and we don't know who it was.' Ondril said, and Barley nodded. 

'Well, serves you two right. I'll bring you all back to the house, and see what the Mrs. has to say about this, come along, she's going to start breakfast soon.' Barley said, and let Param and Terry go. Brom and Ondril got their packs, along with Terry and Param, and they followed Barley back to his farm, which wasn't very far away. 

Terry and Param kept eyeing things as they walked, but Barley was keeping a good eye on them, and only let go of their shoulders when they were inside the door to his house. His wife greeted them with a warm smile, and when she was rushing them into the kitchen, Barley explained the situation himself. 

'Oh, you poor dears!' Mrs. Barley said, and Barley shook his head. 

'Serves them right, they were steeling crops.' He said sternly, but Mrs. Barley wiggled her finger at him.

'Now, now, Bart, you know very well that they've paid enough.' She then turned to the others, putting food on their plates. 'Now, dears, you slept out in the cold last night? You poor things! Would you like to stay with us for while?' she asked, and Barley turned a slight red. 

'Lilly, please! They've stolen enough already.' He said, but she had made up her mind, and it wouldn't be changed. 

'They won't steal anything again, Bart. What do you say to the invitation, boys?' she asked, and Ondril and Brom glanced at each other. When Ondril saw that Brom didn't know what to do, he smiled politely. 

'Thank you, Mrs. Barley, but we can only stay for a little while.' He said, and Lilly Barley beamed. 

'Of coarse, stay as long as you would like! At least stay for lunch, it's very cold outside, I think… mushroom soup is a good solution to that!' she said, and Terry and Param practically hopped in their chairs. 

'Most definitely, Aunt Lilly!' Param cried, and Terry nodded. They were both related to Lilly Barley on their mother's side. Their mothers were sister in laws, Param's mother being married to Terry's father's brother. Their grandmother was sister to Lilly's mother, so they were all related, rather distantly. 

'As long as they stay away from my carrots.' Barley scowled. 

They stayed for the rest of the day and tried to leave after noon, but Mrs. Barley suggested that they stay the night. Not wanting to upset her, they stayed, but agreed to leave in the middle of the night. 

When the time came, Ondril and Brom got their packs, left a note, and walked out the door. As they were going down the path to the road, someone called out behind a tree. 

'Where are you two going?' Param asked, coming from behind the tree. Ondril and Brom stopped short, turning quickly to him. 

'No where of importance.' Ondril said, but when Terry jumped from behind a bush Brom groaned. 

'I believe they tried to give us the slip, Parm!' he said, and ran over to the other two, putting his arm around Ondril's shoulder. Param did the same to Brom and smiled. 

'But we're not going to let them, are we?'

'No, I don't believe we are!'

'Well, you believe wrong.' Brom said, obviously annoyed by this point. He was about to say something else when they heard a shriek again. 

'Get down!' Terry cried, and they ran off the path, hiding in the bushes. When nothing came they ventured to stand up. 

'Where are you going?' Terry asked, very serious. His change in attitude scared Ondril a slight bit, and he glanced at Brom.

'Brom and I need to get to Nolner.' Ondril said, and Terry nodded. 

'Right… we can take the Old Ferry, come on!' Terry said, and started running towards the Old Ferry. Luckily they made it there with out any trouble. They ran through the fence, and jumped onto the Ferry. It was tied at four spots, and while they were undoing the first ones, they heard a shriek, and the form of a black rider appeared in the dark. Fear filled them once again, and they unbound the ropes quicker. 

'Faster, faster!' Terry cried, his heart racing, he and Ondril helping with the bottom ropes as the rider left off of his horse, and jumped down onto the ground. He took his steps slowly, but the dock was short, and made a grab for the four when he was in arms reach. He had gotten a hold of Ondril's cloak. 

'What are you waiting for, push off!' Brom cried, and they pushed off just in time. The black rider leaned too far forward, and when they tugged at Ondril's cloak, fell into the water, disappearing in a shroud of black. He was not going to be back for a great while. The four hobbits cried out in joy, but when they saw the forms of four other riders, they stopped, Ondril grabbing the tiny stone in his pocket. This was not the time to celebrate. 


	5. Dweller in Nolner

**Another chaaapterrrrrrr! Yes, I've uploaded another chapter! I'm so proud. (Not) Here's my introduction of our first female character! (Not a Mary-Sue! Believe me, she's not.) so, newayz, read and enjoy!**

**~Hoshiko**

Dweller in Nolner

Param looked out at the four riders who were still looking out into the darkness of the water. After a moment the left slowly, and Param sat down. 

'They were looking for something, Ondril.' He said, and Ondril nodded. 

'They are, but I don-' he said, but Param scowled. 

'Ondril, I'm not mad. You have something they want, don't you?' 

'No.' Ondril said, and Param saw that he wasn't about to tell. 

'All right. So where are we going?' So, where are we going?' he asked, trying to sound cheerful.

'Nolner, to meet a friend of mine.'

'Who is your friend?'

'A person named Brendalin, he-'

'Brendalin?' Terry asked, and jumped up. 'We know a Brendalin!' When he first saw us, he knew us right away.'

'You know him too?' Ondril asked, starting to wonder how much he had missed lately. 

'Of course! Where have you been? He's made many friends in the Shire, recently. Of course, some folks call him strange, but most like him.' Ondril felt his jaw drop. Had he been that blind not to see it? Perhaps his dreams had taken more time than he had originally thought. He had to shrug it off, though and sleep. He definitely needed sleep. Lying down on the hard wood he drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

He woke up late in the afternoon, and sat up slowly. Everyone else was awake, some munching on food, others just sitting.

'Where are we?' he asked, and Brom yawned. They acted as if they hadn't slept. 

'Near Noln Ford… Terry says we should get there a little after dark.' Brom said, while Terry nodded through his carrot. They sat there until dark, when they could see the small ford in front of them. Nolner was only two miles from the river, and after they tied the Old Ford to the dock, they started on their way. 

Keeping their eyes out for black riders they, traveled at a quick pace on the path. Every time a shadow moved one would jumped until they came to the gates. The night was black, and no moon seemed to be out. It took them a minute to find the gate's door, and when they knocked, a man opened the look-out hole. 

'Who's this?' he asked, and Ondril looked up at the man. 'Hello, my hobbit-lads! What brings you to Nolner, then?' he asked, and Ondril's voice came out rather defensive. 

'We're going to meet someone at the inn.' Ondril replied, and the gate opened. 

'All right, sir, nothing was meant by it. Come on in, then, come on in!' he said, and they walked through. The town was full of men, and dwarves, and the occasional hobbit would run by. None looked all too friendly, and the four companions stuck close together. 

'Mr. Ondril, where are we going?' Brom asked, and Ondril looked around. 

'The Golden Pickle…' Ondril answered, and Brom looked with him. 

'When did Brendalin tell you this?' 

'Before he left…' Ondril answered, and they found it. Walking in, they looked around. They were the smallest ones there, and felt rather inferior. 

'Where is he, Ondril?' Brom asked, and Ondril shook his head. 

'I don't know…'

'Hello, my Small Sirs!' a voice said, making them all jump. They looked up to find the bartender smiling warmly at them. 'You three look tired. How does a few glasses of ale and a room sound to you're ears and furry feet?' he asked.

'Sounds wonderful. We'll take a room for the night.' Ondril said with a smile.

'Certainly, Mr.—eh…'

'Goedring.' 

'Of course, Goedring! Well, the common room is open for the whole night, and here's a key, enjoy your stay!' he said cheerily, turning to someone who raised their hand for more beer. They took a seat, sending Terry up to the bar for some ale. After a while they asked for some cheese, and bread, getting them from the bartender. 

Ondril would sometimes finger the small jewel in his pocket, and when no one came over to meet them Brom became worried. 

'Where is he, Ondril?' Brom asked. 'The two men that keep looking at us are starting to worry me a slight bit.' He said, pointing to a table over to the far right of them. Ondril glanced over warily in time to see one hooded figure whisper to the other. 

'He should get here, Brom, or at least someone will.' Ondril said reassuringly. He seemed to have totally forgotten his adventure as Frodo, and started to grip the stone rather firmly. 

Param and Terry, in the mean time, had been having a contest: who could stuff the most cheese in their mouth at once. Terry had to swallow sooner than Param, and as he watched Param try to chew, he was laughing up a riot.

'I swear, sometimes you act younger than tweens.' Brom said, shaking his head. Param just smiled with cheese in his mouth, and made Terry laugh even harder. 

'That's what happens when you've had a bit too much.' Terry said, and took another sip of beer. When he looked over to Ondril, though, he cried out. 

'Ondril!' he cried, and jumped up. Everyone's eyes fell upon Ondril, including those others in the common room. Ondril was disappearing right before their eyes. He had started to flicker, and when the flickering was done, he disappeared totally. Some of the men called out and pointed to the now vacant spot. People started looking under the table for the young chap, but couldn't find him. 

Ondril, on the other hand, was having a slightly bigger problem. He hadn't been noticing his flickering until he had disappeared totally. When he did so, his eyes opened, and he looked around. Everything had gone a warped-color black, and only outlines of people could be seen. 

He looked around frantically, trying to remember what had caused it, when he felt the cold-hard stone in his hand. He tried to open his hand, but couldn't. It took his other hand to pry his fingers off the stone, and when he did, he found he had stumbled to the far wall. 

The hobbits had scattered, trying to find him, and Param was the closest. He sighed, and called the others over.

'He's over here, everyone!' he said, and all the hobbits rushed over to him, including the two men in the black hoods. With their legs being longer one grabbed Ondril, and took him up the stairs and into a bedroom. The other hobbits cried out, and followed, grabbing something to fight with. They burst into the room, and everyone turned. 

'Give him up, or you'll have to deal with me, you two!' Brom cried, and one of the tall ones seemed to smirk under his hood. 

'You do not know what you are dealing with, little ones.' He took his hood off to reveal long, light-brown hair and pointed ears. 

'And it is not that we thought you would.' The other person said, doing the same. They were surprised to find a female under the hood, a woman no less. 'The wizard did not come, as I expected. Relnik, go and tell the others of this.' She said, and the elf left with a bow, putting his hood back over his fair features. 'And don't bow!' she called, and they could hear the laugh of the elf as he walked down the stairs. 'Stupid elf…' 

'Who are you?' Ondril asked, going over to the other hobbits. The woman shrugged and closed the door, and sat in a chair, leaning back in it. 

'Which name would you like?' she asked, smirk on her face. 'Here I am named Dweller. You could call me by at least twenty others, though.' she said, but when she received blank stares, she rolled her eyes and sat forward in her chair. 'I am the friend of Brendalin, the one you were told of before you left.' She said, and Ondril came back to reality. 

'Oh, of coarse.' 

'But we cannot stay in this room, we must go to another.' She said, and stood, taking them to the room across the hall. When they went into that room she closed the door again, and turned to them. 'I was only told of two hobbits, yet there are four here. Tell me your names, young ones.' She said, motioning to Param and Terry. 

'Param Took.'

'Terry Brandybuck.' Each answered, and she nodded. 

'Yes, I've heard of a Took and Brandybuck before. Now,' she leaned back in her chair and took out a pipe, 'You are Ondril Baggins, aren't you?'

'Yes…'

'And how do we know you're a friend of Brendalins? You could have very well just come with the elf and made the story up!' Brom said suddenly. Dweller just laughed, though, and leaned forward in her chair. 

'I know what you have.' She said, and stood, advancing upon them, sword drawn 'And I know what it can do. Now, if I wanted to take if from you, I would have before this point in time.' She then stopped, as they were against the wall, and sheathed her sword. 'So I would not like to take it from you. Now if you would trust me, then this would be much easier.' She held out her hand, and Ondril took it. 

'Very well, Dweller. We will trust you for the time being.' He said, and they let go. She sat down again, and took off her cloak, revealing a rather dirty-looking old shirt and leggings. She had grey, stern eyes, along with dark brown hair. She wasn't particularly attractive, and if their senses served them right, seemed as if she had been in the Wild for more than a good month. 

'I am here to take you to Rivendell. We shall stay here the night, so you should get some rest.' She said, and everyone nodded, Terry and Param realizing for the first time that they were rather tired. While Dweller looked out the window, they climbed into the beds, and fell asleep quickly. Brom took a while to sleep, while Ondril never went to sleep at all. He instead sat next to Dweller, waiting for something. 

'Their near.' He said after a long pause. She drew in a deep breath, and looked out the window down the street. 

'They're not in Nolner, yet, little one. We have time.' She said, and he looked down at his feet. 

'What are they?' he asked, though he knew the answer.

'They are some thing that hasn't shown in this world for an age. I will tell you more when the others are awake. I do not believe they know the danger they are in.' 

'They have a good idea.' Ondril said, and sat in silence until Dweller stood up, putting out the lone candle that lit the room. 

'They are here. Keep quiet.' She instructed, and he did so. They could hear the screams of people down stairs, and the clank of metal boots on the stairs. Ondril held his breath as he sat on the bed next to Terry. Terry's eyes opened, and he was about to say something when Ondril covered his mouth with his hand. They could hear the door next to them open, and after a moment the shriek of the things that had chased them call. There then was a rush as the things ran down the stairs, and jump onto their horses. The shrieks had awoken the others, and they sat up, hearts pounding. 

'What was that?' Terry asked, and Dweller stood, watching them leave through the streets of the town. 

'They are creatures of old; terrors of ancient times. They are the Nazgul. I believe you have heard of them before, but these are not the ones in the old stories. These are more cunning, more devious. They can see with the eyes of an elf, and hear with the ears of one.' She explained, the color in the hobbit's faces drained. 

'How have they come back?'

'The Dark Powers have been resurecting them for hundreds of years. They are the original ones, but have been given new powers. We must have more caution with them, for these, like the others, will never stop hunting you.' She finished, and they all stayed quiet. After a moment she re-lit a candle, and sat back down, putting some hair behind her ear. They could see that the top was slightly pointed. Most settled back down and fell asleep, Ondril with them, but Brom gazed at her ears in awe. 

'You're an elf, aren't you?' he asked, and she raised an eyebrow. 

'An elf? No, Master Gardener, I'm not. Now is not the time, please go to sleep.' She said, and he laid down slowly, eyes not leaving her ear. 

She awoke them the next morning, and through protests from Terry and Param, got them out the door, and through the gates of the town. 


	6. Blade of the Nazgul

**Hi hi! Chapter, chapter, chapter! Yahoo! Here you go, enjoy, and all that good shtuff! (Yesh, shtuff!)**

**~Hoshiko**

Blade of the Nazgul

            They traveled for three days through an area that seemed to be an old swamp. Though the ground had dried a great deal there were still small patches of water, that were surrounded with little blood-eating flies. 

'I hope they stay at the water…' Param said, eyeing them cautiously. 'I don't want to think how miserable the night will be.' He was correct to think that the night was going to be miserable, for it was. They were constantly being bitten, and left large, red marks where ever they did so. 

'I think I shall shrivel up if they bite me any more!' Terry complained, smacking his neck. They spent a restless night, no one really sleeping. Dweller had caught a few rabbits, and was cooking them when they woke up, the smell seeming to fend off the ghastly flies. They ate and started off again. They walked for another two days until they came upon a hill. 

On this hill was an old stone building: an old ruin when the Numenorean's still reigned over Arnor. It had once been called Weathertop, but it had sense been rebuilt. The old stone statues had been torn down, and new ones had been put up. But through time, men had again lost control of Arnor, and it again stood old and torn. Now it was crumbling, no one claiming it. 

'Stormspell…' Dweller said as they came upon it. 'Long ago, thousands of years ago, it was a great meeting place of the kings of Arnor and lands to the west. Now it just stands in ruin again.' She said bitterly, and led them up the hill to a great hole in the hill, which would serve as a shelter. 'We will camp here tonight. Feel free to make a fire, I will be out and about, doing some other things. Call if you need me.' She said, and left them, letting them make a fire. 

'It's feverishly cold out here…' Brom muttered to himself as he took out some meat he had taken from Nolner. 'I shan't be surprised if all of us wake up with the flue tomorrow.' 

'I believe we'll make it, Brom.' Terry said, putting some of his (by his, I mean Barley's) mushrooms in a frying pan. They cooked their food, and gave a plate to Ondril, who seemed to be on the edge of his seat. 

'You really should calm down, Ondril. Nothing will bother us.' Brom said, taking Ondril's plate from him. 

'The Nazgul are still out there, what if they come like last time?' Ondril asked, but immediately realized what he had said. 

'Last time, sir?' Brom asked, and Ondril immediately thought of a solution. 

'Yes, remember in the Red Book? Frodo and the other's camped in this very same spot. They were found, what if it happens again?' 

'Well, I don't rightly know if they camped _here, but I truly doubt we will be attacked.' Brom answered reassuringly. 'And if they do, Dweller's in ear's range.' Ondril settled down at the reminder of this, and lay down on his blankets. He fell asleep quickly, for their adventure had tired him out quickly. _

When he awoke the next morning he was delighted to see that no one had attacked them, and that the sun was shining rather clearly in the sky. He stretched and had done little but yawn when Dweller came up behind him, pulling him to his feet. 

'What's this?' he asked, and she went over to Terry. 

'We must leave, now.' Was all she said, and when everyone had awoken, they packed their things and put out the fire. 

'Why must we go so early?' Terry complained, still half asleep. 

'We are being followed, and I do not know how far behind us they are.' Dweller said urgently, and made their way down the old hill. They walked at a quicker pace; Dweller looking behind them every chance she got. 

'Where are we going?' Param asked, and Dweller glanced behind them.

'We are going to Rivendell. We will not stop very often if I can help it.' Dweller said, and Param glanced at Terry. 

They walked at a quick pace through the countryside. The day seemed to grow darker the more they walked, and Dweller looked more and more worried. She didn't stop them at nightfall, and only when Terry and Param's constant whining became more of a burden then their walking did they stop and make camp. The rested for the rest of the night (which seemed too short) and started out again the next day. They did this for four days, only stopping three times. By the end of the fourth day even Dweller was shuffling her feet, and they stopped near a bridge. 

'The Last Bridge…' she said, and put her things down, going over to the water, taking a very needed drink. The others followed her, and when they were quiet satisfied, they plopped themselves down on the ground, making a fire. 

'They have lost their trail, it seems. We can rest the full night, but no fire.' She said and Param let out a sigh of relief, but Brom scowled at the thought of no fire. 

'Good, I feel as if my feet were going to loose all their hair if we kept going!' Param said, and Terry laughed. 

'I don't think that's possible, Parm, you've got the furriest of us all.' Param, didn't hear him, however, he had immediately fallen asleep on his nap sack. Terry laughed, however, and did the same. As they snored loudly Dweller took out four swords. 

'You will need these,' she said, and Ondril took his from her, followed by Brom. She set the other two on the ground, and glanced at the other two sleeping. 'Give them theirs when they… awaken.' She said, and Ondril nodded, he himself falling asleep along with Brom. When Ondril woke up during the night he could hear the sounds of a fire going. 

'Are you mad?' he said, jumping up. 'She said not to start a fire!' they then remembered, and Param quickly stumbled for some water. He came back and put it out quickly. They waited for a moment in the dark, only light coming from the moon. It seemed Param and Terry had already been given their swords, and they were inspecting them in the light of the moon, having nothing better to do. After a moment, though, they heard a shriek through the dark. Through the trees they could see the figures of three Nazgul, galloping towards them. 

'They saw the fire!' Ondril cried, and looked to the back of them. 'Run!' They all then turned, and ran towards the bridge. On the other side of the bridge they could see two more coming. When they reached the end of the trees they got off their black beasts and slowly came up to the group of four hobbits. The hobbits looked around frantically, and ran under the bridge, trying to hide. It didn't work, though, and the five advanced upon them under the bridge. 

Param suddenly got an idea, and nudged Terry. 

'Terry, in a moment we run to the top of the bridge right next to the Black Riders, and make them follow us.' Terry glanced at a moment at Param, but he didn't have a better plan, so he nodded. 

'Right.' Terry said, and Param bolted towards the Black Riders. 

'Hey, over here, you!' they cried, and ran so they were just about to brush the cloak of one. The most the Black Riders did was turn their hoods at them, and then turned them back. Param and Terry noticed this when they had run back up the bank, and Terry looked frantically from Param to the Black Riders, who had just about disappeared under the bridge. 

'What do we do now, Param?' he asked, and Param shook his head. 

'Brom!' he yelled, and Brom answered. 

'Go get Dweller!' Brom screamed.

'But…'

'Now!' he said, and Param and Terry sprinted over the bridge, crying for Dweller at the top of their lungs. 

Brom and Ondril, on the other hand, had been slowly backing up towards the wall. They had their swords drawn, as did the Nazgul. Ondril's other hand was on his chest pocket the whole time, being drawn there. When they could not back up any longer, Brom grit his teeth, and suddenly jumped at the five. 

'Get back, or I'll spear you!' he cried, and one of the Nazgul took a swing at Brom, slicing his arm. Brom cried out in pain, and grasped his arm, blood coming through his shirt. His vision became blurry. 

'Brom!' Ondril yelled, the hood of one of the Nazgul turning towards him. He looked up in horror as they advanced upon only him now, and took their swords back, stabbing him in the right shoulder. He cried out as the blade pierced his skin, and the world seemed to go blurry. 

Through the blur, Brom and Ondril both saw the figure of some tall, dark person. It started to fight the Nazgul, and after a moment the figure of Dweller appeared as well. They succeeded in fighting the Nazgul off, and they went shrieking into the night. 

While the two were fighting off the Nazgul, Param and Terry came running over to them. The other two then came, too, and each picked a hobbit up. 

'Relnik, thank you for coming, how many horses do you have?'

'One. I didn't think you'd be needing one, too.' The other body, obviously Relnik said. Dweller sighed, and looked down at the hobbit in her arms. 

'You must take them both, then.' She said, and Relnik smirked. 

'No problem. I was there first, where were you?' 

'Looking for you, the other two's call brought me back, though. You were supposed to be here two days ago.' 

'I'm sorry.'

'Very well, just hurry!' Dweller said, and Relnik got onto his horse, setting Ondril onto it before him. Dweller put Brom on in front of Ondril, and looked back at the other two hobbits. 'Your father will know what to do with them.' 

'I know, he's my father.' Relnik said, and Dweller rolled her eyes. 

'Go! Naro lim, naro lim!' she cried, and the horse started galloping before Relnik could say any more. As he went she smiled to herself. 'Serves you right, elf.' 

'He'll get them there quickly, won't he?' Param asked, worried, and Dweller nodded, not turning to them. 

'If he doesn't his father will have his head.' Dweller said, and turned back. 'We must rest, now, they will be fine. We will keep going in the morning.' She said, and they laid down, going to sleep rather quickly for being so worried. 

Relnik rode his horse over the bridge and through the forest. After a while he could see the figures of the Black Riders coming to him quickly, and he rushed his horse forward. They gained on him, and soon had them surrounded. 

Brom groaned in pain as they came near along with Ondril, and Relnik looked down at them, worried. They were becoming paler, and their eyes were becoming more distant. 

'Come on, hold out…' he whispered to them, and ushered his horse to go faster. Ahead he could see the trolls-statues in Trollshaw, and tried to loose them through the forest surrounding the statues. 

It didn't work for two of them, all though the other three left for a good amount of time. They still pursued the three through the rest of that forest, the night turning into the day. He had to keep going through the day, the horse never seeming to tire. He reached the ford by the middle of the day, and Relnik crossed it, the Nazgul stopping. 

'This did not stop our kin before!' the head Black Rider called, and Relnik turned his horse around. 'What makes you believe it will stop us now?' 

'I don't believe it will stop you from trying!' Relnik called back, unsheathing his sword. 'But I would be delighted if you were to prove me wrong!' The Black Rider then laughed, and started to cross the ford. 

Relnik looked at the water, and then at the other two on the horse. Not hesitating, he recited the spell that had saved Glorfindel years before, and the water came down upon the Nazgul like a stampede of water-horses, sweeping them away. 

'Fools; you would think they would have learned.' He smiled to himself, and turned the horse back, going to Rivendell. 


	7. In Imladris

Another chapter, I'm on a roll! A cina-roll! (naw, I'm kidding) so, next chapter is going to be the full story of Dweller's life, and relationship it Relnik and his family. Enjoy.

**~Hoshiko**

            (A/N: Italics are in Elvish.)

Relnik rushed his horse through the gates of Imladris, and two other elves rushed towards him. He gave the female elf Ondril, and he took Brom after he dismounted. They rushed into the building. 

'How did this happen?' the other male elf said, and they rushed up the stairs. 

'I'm sorry, ada. I did not get to the group in time, and they were attacked.' 

'Where are the others, Relnik?' The elf-maiden asked as they came into a room with two beds in it. Each hobbit was set in a bed, and Relnik turned to her. 

'I left them at the Last Bride, they are safe now, I have destroyed the Nazgul for the time being.' 

'I will go get them, then.' She said, and he shook his head.

'No, Ethohen, you must stay here and help father. Your healing skills are greater than mine.' She drew a deep breath, and let it out slowly. 

'Of course, just hurry.' She said, and he nodded, leaving. She turned to Brom, and took off his shirt, starting to clean the wound. 

Relnik went to the stable and got another horse, talking to it soothingly. 'Hello, old friend, you must come with me, all right?' the horse whinnied, giving him the assurance he needed. 'They should be near the Trollshaws by now.' He said to himself and whistled for the horse he had left at the gate. It came, and he mounted it, turning back to the group he had left behind. 

'Come along, Áre!' he cried, and they were off to the Trollshaw. 

It was the end of the next day, and Terry and Param were trudging along, carrying both Brom and Ondril's packs along with their own. Terry unfortunately was stuck with Brom's. 

'Are we near, yet?' he breathed, and Dweller shook her head. 

'No. We're about three day's away on foot.' 

'Oh.' They walked in silence until it became dark. They stopped to make camp, and after they had eaten dinner, horse hooves could hear in the dark. They immediately jumped up, and Dweller unsheathed her sword. 

'Who's there?' she called into the darkness, and Relnik's face became obvious in the light of the fire. 

'Whom do you think?' he asked, and she rolled her eyes. 

'Just you.' She said, and he laughed.

'Just me, with another horse that I've brought for you to ride. Well, if I'm not wanted…' he trailed off, and started to lead the horse the other way. 

'Oh, come along now, I was just joking.' She said, and he pretended to scowl.

'This is no time for a jest.' 

'You're a bad actor. I know you.' She said, and he smiled. 

'A bit too well.' He said, and motioned to the other horse. She nodded, smiling, and looked at the two hobbits. 

'Come on, Terry with Relnik, Param with me. Áre can handle two bodies.' She said, and helped Terry on with Relnik, went over to put out the fire, grabbed all the packs, and helped Param on with her. When they were set they rode off, reaching Rivendell by early morning. 

When they did arrive, both Param and Terry were asleep. They were awaken, and what they saw in front of them made their mouths drop in awe. It was Imladris, rebuilt and refurbished. In the eight years that Relnohen had learned of the stone's appearance he, with the help of the few elves that still resided in Imladris, had fixed it up to it's original state. If you were to compare the first one to the new one, you would not have been able to see the differences. 

This brings us to the subject of elves in Middle-earth. The places of the elves had been long-sense forgotten and abandoned except from Relnohen, who had still resided in Imladris. Lorien and the other realms, like Mirkwood had been abandoned totally, no one having the mind to keep them up. Most of the elves had, instead, become Rangers, fighting with the men in the wild against evil when they chose to show themselves. 

Relnohen's son, in fact, had become a Ranger along with Dweller. His daughter, Ethohen, had chosen to stay with her father, learning healing powers that had helped define Imladris thousands of years earlier. There were only about one hundred elves left in Middle-earth, and you would not have known that unless they showed their ears. 

Learning of the new danger had driven many of the elves to come back to Imladris, many of them adopting their old way and some their old homes. It was amazing what they could do in such a short period of time. 

'It has much changed sense I last saw it…' Dweller said, herself in awe. She had not seen her old home in ten years. 

'You were wondering why most of the elves had left our stations, weren't you?' Relnik asked, and she nodded. 'They had returned back here, to restore this place to one of rest and beauty.' Relnik said, and she smiled. 

'That's the most inspiring thing you've ever said.' 

'I know.' He said, and she laughed. 

'You mean it wasn't always like this?' Param asked, sounding slightly disappointed. 

'It had fallen near ruins as of late.' Relnik said. 'But now it's in it's original state. If you two would like to sleep, I will show you to your bedrooms.'

'No, where's Ondril and Brom?' Terry asked, and Relnik smiled. 

'Of course, follow me.' He said, and they did so, being shown to the room. They found the two in beds, still unconscious, but breathing normally. 

'Will they be all right?' Param asked, looking at Ondril, trying not to cry. They were first cousins. 

'You should ask my father those types of questions. Or my sister, both are here, some where.' Relnik answered, and Terry looked at him. 

'Could you get them?'

'Of course.' Relnik answered, and left. He came back a few moments later with his father. 'My young hobbits, this is my father, Relnohen. He can answer any questions you may have.' He turned to his father. 'These are the hobbits Terry Brandybuck and Param Took.' He then bowed and left. Relnohen turned to the hobbits, smiling kindly, and sat in a chair.

'Will they be all right?' Terry asked, and Relnohen looked at Ondril.

'They will heal, I have made sure that they have gotten the best of care.' 

'When will they wake up?' 

'In a few days. Do not worry, we will keep you in formed if any thing unfortunate happens. Now I suggest you two get some sleep, you look very tired.' Relnohen said, and the two nodded. 'The room across the hall is free, as is one next to it. Those can be your rooms if you would like.' 

'Thank you, sir.' 

'It is not a problem.' Relnohen said, and stood, showing them to their rooms. They went slowly, looking back at Ondril and Brom before going to sleep in their own rooms. 

Ondril awoke to see Brom sitting in a chair next to bed, asleep, holding his hand. Ondril smiled, and gripped his hand. Brom jerked awake, and when he saw his master awake he cried out in joy. 

'Mr. Ondril!' he cried, and grasped his master around his neck. 'You're awake!' Ondril laughed, and hugged back with his good arm. 

'How are you, Brom?' Ondril asked, nodding towards Brom's arm. Brom turned a bright red and looked at it. 

'I'm healing. Brendalin came yesterday, he's talking with Relnohen now.'

'Who?'

'Relnohen, the elf who healed us. Well, he and his daughter, they're elves, Mr. Ondril, _elves_! I had thought they all had disappeared!' Brom was looking very excited, and Ondril couldn't help but smile. 

'So had I, Brom. I'm glad to hear that they've still managed to stay.' Ondril said. Through the door they could see Terry and Param, talking happily. When they saw him, they smiled, and called down the hall to someone. 

'You're both awake!' Param cried, and ran to the bed. 

'Lord Relnohen said you wouldn't wake up for a few days, and he was right. It's been a week sense we saw you awake!' Terry said, in such a rush Ondril wondered if he had heard his little cousin correctly. 

'How long did you say?'

'A week, master Baggins, a week.' Another voice said. It was Brendalin and he was beaming to see the hobbits awake. 'You gave me quiet a fright when I learned you'd been hurt.' Ondril and Brom both smiled, Brom muttering something that sounded like 'why are you people worried me for?' 

'You're getting better, and when you're allowed out the room, we _need_ to show you something!' Param said, and Ondril nodded.

'All right, all right.' He said, trying to slow his younger cousin down.

'It is up to Relnohen when they are allowed to leave their beds, Param. In fact, I don't believe you should be out of yours Brom.' Brendalin said, and Brom nodded, but didn't move. Brendalin just shook his head, and turned, leaving with a wave. 'When you are allowed out I have things to tell you.' 

'Wait-' Ondril said, and Brendalin turned back. 

'Yes?'

'What is Dweller's real name?'

'Aradraen.' Brendalin answered, and left.  

'Aradraen?' Relnik called through the dark hall. Nothing answered, but he could see a figure move in the darkness. 'Aradraen?' he asked again, and someone sighed.

'Use my real name.' Someone answered bitterly. Relnik walked up to the figure, and looked at the woman sitting in the chair.

'That is your real name.' He said, but shook her head, eyes falling upon the robes that he now wore. 

'Any other name but that one.' She said, and he sighed. 

'Fine, _Laurë, what are you doing here?'_

'Sitting.'

'Aha… well, nice to see you've actually bathed sense I've seen you last.'

'Not now, Relnik.' She said, and tried to hit him away. She was too far away, though, and hit mid-air. Instead of leaving, he took a chair and sat in it next to her. She still sat on the table, and stared at the grave in front of her. 

'Why is it I always find you here?'

'If you didn't look for me then you wouldn't.' Relnik rolled his eyes, and stared at the grave. 

'_I have given my gold to the Dunedain, I have kept no gold for myself._ A familiar quote in Imladris, though a little changed over the years.'

'She changed it to fit me… why did she do that?'

'She knew your future, who you were, what you were destined to do.' 

'That's not my destiny. It died with her.' Relnik sighed, he hated it when his sister was like this. 

'Father loved her, you know.' 

'Yes, I know.' 

'First my mother then her… it has been hard for him these past years.' Relnik said quietly, and Laurë shifted in her chair, and said no more. 'You _are Dunedain, you know. It is your future.' _

'I do not wish to be Dunedain!' Laurë said loudly, standing up. 'I am not fit for such a destiny!' she cried, and left the room, leaving Relnik alone in the dark hall. 


	8. Tale of Aradraen

**Here Follows A Part of the Tale of the House of Dunedain, and the House of Relnohen of the Nandi Elves**

'Elraen was the mother of Aradraen, she was the only child of Arandiel, of the house of Dunedain. Arandiel was the only heir of the scepter of Gondor with a child, and it was decided that the scepter should be given to Elraen at Arandiel's death. Arandiel, however, was killed in a revolt, and Elraen was forced to find another place to live. At the age of fifty-six, a young woman for a Dunedain, she came upon Imladris where she met Relnohen. 

Relnohen was an elf of the Nandi group, a very rare group that spent their time mostly in the trees like the Silvan folk. They shared the features of fair skin with their Silvan brethren, but had hair of light-brown, rather than light blonde. 

Relnohen, at this point in time, had suffered the loss of his wife when she was traveling with a group of Rangers. They had been ambushed by a pack of wild-men and wargs, a strange sighting in those days. He had vowed to keep his daughter in Imladris, not exposing her to the dangers of Middle-earth. His daughter was young then, too, only twenty-two and she did not know of the outside world. He had an even younger son, Relnik, who had just turned ten two days before they learned of her death. 

Then it came the day that Elraen came onto Imladris, and was given shelter and food. With no where else to go, she stayed in Imladris, and eventually fell in love with Relnohen. It was only when he learned that she loved him did he express his feelings for her, and they were wed two years later. She gave birth to Aradraen when she was sixty-two, and they named her after her forefather, Aragorn, and her mother. Relnohen felt this proper, for he had other children of his own, and he held much reverence for the Fellowship and it's members. He lovingly gave his new child the nickname of Laurë, or 'gold,' for that was the color of her hair when she was born. 

She eventually lost her golden hair, though, and it turned a dark brown, like her mother's, and grew into a strong young woman. She took human qualities, and they found that she was mortal. She was neither beautiful nor interested in womanly things, and spent most of her time with Relnik. She was loved greatly by her half-sister, and half-brother, along with her father and mother. She requested to be trained in swordmanship after she saw one of Relnik's lessons, and when she was in her twenties she announced that she was going to become a Ranger. 

'"No," her father said, though, remembering his first wife, "I will not allow you to be killed in the Wild. It is too dangerous." But his new wife had foresight and could see what would happen if she did, and spoke softly from her chair. 

'"Relnohen, she is rightly trained to become a Ranger, for her skills are in fighting. I believe that if this is what she wants, she should be able to do it." Trusting his wife, Relnohen agreed, but send his son along with her to see to her protection. So Aradraen became a ranger, and only returned back to Imladris when she and her brother received an urgent letter from their father that they should hurry back. 

When they arrived, they found Elraen ill with an incurable disease, and Aradraen spent every night with her mother until she died two weeks later. On her mother's deathbed, while she was washing her head with a cloth, her mother smiled up at her. 

'"Laurë, my darling. You know the story of Aragorn and his mother?"

'"Yes."

'" I'm afraid our story will end like that one. So I will leave you with this:

Onen I- Laurë Edain, u-chebin Laurë anim"

'"But this does not have to end like that. You will get better, mother, you must."

'"I am sorry, child, but it will not." Then she took her hand, and caressed her daughter's face. "Do not worry, your fate will be as his, which is why I left you with that. Good bye, Aradraen, my Laurë." She said, and drew her last breath. 

'"Mother? Mother!" Aradraen cried, but her mother did not answer. She then cried until her heart hardened, and she refused to accept her fate. She left behind the name of Aradraen, and went out into the wild, only coming back to Imladris every few years. Relnohen hardly saw anything of his third child, and started to wonder if his wife's word's had not been true. He convinced himself that there was a reason that she would become so bitter, though, and decided to leave it as it was until things fell into their correct place. 

It was during these long years where Aradraen, now known as Dweller or Elf-gold, came to know Brendalin, and become friends with him. They then traded news, Shire business coming from Dweller, and other news from Brendalin. Their friendship eventually led to Dweller's existence in this story.'


	9. Council of Relnohen

**Ummm…**** I'm sorry if this chapter turned out too much like the movie, but I had already given the information I wanted, and it was not needed. I also figured you did not want to read a chapter that was ten pages long. ^_^;; If you did, I apologize. **

**By the way, I have the sincerest thanks to Weasleytwinlover, and Took. You've given me more the reason to continue this. Thank you, cookies to you! *Gives them some cookies* Here you go, enjoy!**

**~Hoshiko**

Council of Relnohen

Ondril and Brom were allowed out of bed the next day. They were told that there was a council that they were supposed to attend the next day, and that Param and Terry were asked to come. Param and Terry had become rather secretive after they had told Param and Brom that they wanted to show them something, and had taken to pouring over a scarlet colored book. 

Now was one of those time, and they were sitting in the corner, flipping through it. 

'Look, he's got to look like him!'

'No, he's Frodo, not Sam!'

'Oh… who's the Baggins?'

'Frodo!' 

'Oh…' They whispering this rather loudly, Param lightly punching his little cousin. This was the first time they had said anything loudly, and Brom and Ondril had caught it all. 

'What are you two looking at?' Brom asked, curios. He went over to the two, and Param and Terry closed the book quickly. Brom could see the title, though. It read 'Descriptions of the Fellowship' and it looked rather old. He laughed to himself, and shook his head. 

'So, that's what you've been up to. Trying to figure out who's like who?' he asked, and they nodded. 

'Yes… I think we've figured it out, too. For the hobbits, I mean.' Terry said, and opened the book. 'Now, Ondril's Frodo, you're Sam, I'm Merry, and he's Pippin.' 

'Or, I could be Merry. I'm older than you.'

'Only by a few years.' Param said, and Brom walked away quickly to let them battle it out. Ondril followed, and laughed when they went out into the hall. 

'They could be arguing for weeks.' He said, shaking his head. The two walked out on the balcony, and looked out at the scenery around them. Below them elves were walking around, enjoying the serenity, and the water rushed from the Bruinen in a rather calming white swirl. While Ondril enjoyed the scenery, Brom stared at his feet until Ondril noticed him, and he looked at his best friend and companion. 

'Brom? What's wrong?' he asked, and Brom looked up, startled. He had been too lost in his own thoughts to realize Ondril had been looking at him. 

'What? Oh… nothing. It's just, Mr. Ondril, it feels strange…' he said, and Ondril furrowed his brow. 

'What is it, Brom?'

'Mr. Ondril… do you feel as if… we've been here before? It seems oddly familiar…' he said, and looked around. 'It's like… I can see scene's happening around me…' he was seemed to be getting worried with himself, and Ondril nodded. 

'Yes, I see them too.' 

'So it's not only me?'

'No, Brom, it's not only you.' Ondril said with a smile, waiting for Brom to call him Frodo, but Brom just looked back down at his feet again. The words never came. 

The rest of the day passed, Param and Terry agreeing that Terry was Merry, and Param was Pippin, only because their names had something in common. Their last names helped with that decision, too. 

Today was the day of the council, and everyone had been awoken early. They were fed in their rooms, and led to the place where the council was to be held. There they found that they were the only ones to be there, besides Dweller, who was sitting in a chair next to the largest one. They were ushered to four chairs, same size as the others, and were asked to sit while they waited the others to arrive. Brom, Param, and Terry did so, but Ondril started to pace around the pillar. He could remember what had happened last time he sat in that chair. 

'You might as well sit, Master Baggins.' A voice said. It was Dweller, and she was looking at him with a grave look in her eyes. 'I doubt you have recovered fully, and we might be here a long time.' Ondril nodded, and got into the chair, feet dangling over the side. A few minutes later they were joined by a group of elves. 

They glided up to the chairs, and sat down gracefully. The hobbits had been surrounded by elves sense they first arrived, but their fluid movements still seemed to entrance the hobbits. They did not realize it, but they deeply respected and had much gratitude for the elves that still graced the world with their presence. There seemed to be a calming effect when they were around. The group in front of them seemed to be of every kind of elves. There were some with dark brown hair, and some with light blonde, while others had a light brown. Only two of the elves had light brown, though. One was a female, and the other was a male and they looked like siblings. When they sat down the male started speaking with Dweller in Elvish, and only looked up when the dwarves came. 

Dwarves. None had been seen near the Shire for years, and they were something else the hobbits were not used to. They tended to be rather loud, speaking in a booming voice, and laughing with a deep _ha-ha-ha_ or _ho-ho-ho_. Most of them looked older, with long, gray beards, braided in different ways to show their status. There was one, though, with a beard not so long, and he would cross his arms rather frequently when they would pick on him for something. He would come back with something, though, and the others would laugh at the one he had made the comment to. They always seemed to try and top each other, but it was plain to see that they were having a good deal of fun doing it, too. 

The elves looked at the dwarves with much distaste, but the dwarves did not acknowledge their presence. They were having too much fun picking on the younger dwarf for something. The elves rolled their eyes, and continued with their conversations. 

The men were the final people to come, and they walked up quickly and sat next to the dwarves, joining in on their conversation. The men were a different race totally. They could be reserved, but could also be very loud when they wanted to be. They mingled well with both Elves and Dwarves, and could be seen sitting with both at the dinner table. The men were tall, like the elves, though not as tall as them, and had very proud features. Though most were gray with years, again there was one man who was not. He had golden hair and stern, blue eyes. He had a grave face and sat tall in his chair. Every once and a while he would glance at Dweller with looks of curiosity, but all talking stopped when the Istari came. 

Brendalin was the only one there like himself, and he came with the new Lord of Imladris. He sat down next to Ondril, and Relnohen stayed standing until he knew that he had everyone's attention. When he was, he looked around at the group of men, elves, dwarves, hobbits, and the lone wizard. 

'Many years ago there was a group called the Fellowship who traveled together to answer a threat. A great threat that Lord Elrond explained as the threat of Mordor. Now, thousands of years later, there is another threat from the desolate country. Ondril,' he said, and Ondril looked up at him, 'please place the Stone on the pillar for all to see.' He said, and Ondril did so, standing and placing it on the stone pillar. When he did so he could feel a great pain lifted from his shoulder's, and he breathed out slowly. 

'This is the Londesarn. Dusk Stone. Created by Sauron when he saw that the Ring alone might fail, and became worried. In it holds the power equal to that of the Ring, able to recreate the Ring if given the chance. It must not be given that chance, it must be destroyed. Some one here must be the one to do that, but who is willing to do so?' He said, and all were quiet. After a moment the young man stood, and looked at the group around him. 

'For years my country has been wondering when this threat was going to show itself, and we were eager to come when we got the summons.' He said as he rose, and Ondril looked at Brendalin. 

'Who is he, Brendalin? He looks like Faramir.' Ondril asked in a whisper, and Brendalin looked up at the figure. 

'He is Teredon, son of Theredome, from the country of Gondor. And his direct ancestors are Faramir and Lady Eowyn. Their house has not lost being the Steward of Gondor sense the War of the Ring.' 

'There is still such a country?'

'Yes, my dear hobbit, as there is still a Rohan with a king.' Brendalin answered as Teredon continued. 

'We have heard of Mordor's movement through the years, and have started tracking it. They are breeding great armies, and are planning on moving them out soon. Mordor's power is growing, and it cannot be stopped.' He said, and Dweller looked up at him. 

'It was told by Boromir, son of Denethor, many years ago the same thing. It is not hopeless, but someone needs stop it before it gets out of hand. They were very close to having it be too late. We must stop them before it gets to that point.' She said, and Teredon raised his eyebrows at her. 

'You know much about this subject for a Ranger.' He said, and Relnik cocked an eyebrow. 

'As she should. She has the same fate as the last Ranger. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I believe, was the last Dunedain in his time, too.' He said, and Dweller shot him a death glance, though she did not protest against it. 

'Now, now, please. Let us not get touchy about subjects of that. If we are going to fight about that, then we might as well leave and let Sauron regain power.' Brendalin said, standing. 

'I believe the dwarves have something to say about this.' An older dwarf said, and stood, Teredon sitting down. 'Long have we resided under our mountains, minding to our own things, but this summons concerned us greatly. 

'For years there has been rumor that our great fortress under the Emyn Muil mountains have been overtaken by orcs, but we refused to believe it. Until we sent someone to the old doors, someone we knew had knowledge of the password, did we believe it when he and his companions did not return. They were killed by the orcs that now reside deep in the mountains. They only know of you if you go under them, but when you do they are ruthless. This was our sign that Sauron was regaining power, and we are determined to stop him.' He said, and sat. 

'This is grim news you bring Droin, son of Broin. It gives us greater reason for haste. Now, who is willing to take it?' Relnohen asked, and again there was silence. When no one spoke up, Teredon stood again. 

'If no one else is willing to take it…' he said, and stared into the stone. Ondril was doing the same, and in his head he could hear the stone whispering. It grew louder as Teredon became closer, and when it became too much he jumped up, speaking for the first time. 

'I will take it.' he said, and Teredon's head jerked to him. To Ondril's surprise, Teredon looked rather relieved, as if he hadn't really wanted to take it. Relnohen tried to hide it, but a small smile crept onto his face all the same. 

'Very well, Ondril. But we cannot allow you to go alone. Nine I will send, who else is going to go with him?' he asked, and all the hobbits jumped up together. 

'I wouldn't feel right if Mr. Ondril were to go by himself.' Brom said, and stood next to his master. 

'And of coarse we'd feel left out if we weren't to go!' Terry exclaimed, and Param nodded. 

'Yes, traveling to a desolate country just wouldn't be the same for him with out us!' Param said, trying to be helpful. He succeeded in making Ondril's face go paler, and Terry elbowed his cousin. 

'You're a wonderful help.' He said, and Param shifted his weight, realizing what he had just said. Dweller then stood, and went over to them. 

'I will go. Hobbit's by themselves would not last very long in the wild.' She said, and Brendalin stood. 

'They would not be alone, Aradraen, for I will be going with them.' He said, and Relnik stood, seeing the look his father was giving him. 

'I will go, too. My bow will come in use if we come across anything unpleasent.'

'Well if the elf is going, then I am.' The dwarf with a shorter beard said, standing. They noticed for the first time that his voice was slightly higher pitched than the other dwarves, and his ears were not as large as the others. 

'Seven men and one female. I will go, too, for I want to see this done, for Gondor's sake.' Teredon said, and the dwarf, who's name was Froin, snorted. 

'_Six men, and two females. I'm a female.' She said, and the dwarves, though the moment was an important one, chuckled. Everyone glanced at her, but they knew of the Dwarven woman's appearances, so they said nothing, and Teredon apologized. _

'I'm sorry, ma'am.' He said, and she nodded. 

'It's understandable, just as long as you don't do it again.' She said, and when Teredon joined the group, Relnohen nodded. 

'Very good, all of you. You realize the danger you are putting yourself in, and that you are not held to your choice.' He said, and they nodded. He smiled, and out stretched his arms. 'It has taken an age of this world, but the races have again set aside their differences to form one common bond. I declare you the new Fellowship of the Stone.' 


	10. Before Departure

**Nother chapter-apter-apter… o.0;;; I'm scarring myself. Well, ANYWAY! Tee hee… read, read read! Thankies!**

**~Hoshiko**

Before the Departure

            Param and Terry led their friends through the halls of Imladris to a room full of books and a statue holding a horn. On the wall was a painting, and when they reached the room, Param and Terry stepped out from their view. The other two hobbits looked in awe, and wondered into the room. 

'When did you find this?' Ondril asked, and his eyes fell onto the painting. 

'We were looking around, and we found it. We got the book here.' Param said excitedly, putting the book back. Ondril didn't hear him, though; he was still looking at the painting. 

'That's a nice one, isn't it?' Terry said, and stood back, admiring it. Brom had found it, too, and he looked on in awe. 

'They look like… us…' he said, and Param nodded. 

'Yes, it's the Fellowship. See? That's the hobbits, and the Ranger Relnik was talking about, Strider. The other human, Boromir, the dwarf, Gimli, and the elf Legolas.' He said, obviously proud of his knowledge. And he was right, for there in front of them was a gigantic painting of the Fellowship of the Ring. The humans, elf, Gandalf were in back, and Gimli and the hobbits in the middle. They're expressions were grave, but brave, though Merry was giving Pippin a look like he couldn't believe what he was saying. 'And we think we know who everyone of the hobbits are.' He said, and was about to explain it when Ondril reached out to the painting as if to touch something that wasn't really there. 

'Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin…' Ondril said, and Terry nodded. 

'Yes! But how did you know that?' he asked, and Ondril shook his head. 

'Just… knew…' he said, and Terry and Param nodded, Terry nudging Param. They left the other two alone in the room, sense they had been there a lot sense their arrival in Rivendell. Brom looked up in the picture, still in awe, almost frightened of it. After a while he shook his head, and sat down in the chair that was there. Ondril became frightened that something was wrong, and he was about to say something when Brom interrupted.

'Remember yesterday when I said I was having visions?' he asked, and Ondril nodded. 

'Yes.'

'Well, Mr. Frodo, I just had another one…' he said, and Ondril looked at him, startled. 

'What did you call me?'

'Mr. Ondril.'

'No, you called me Frodo.' 

'I did? Well, it's just, this vision-' 

'No, it' ok Sam. I am Frodo.' He said, and embraced his best friend for the first time in a very, very long time. 

'Oh, Mr. Frodo!' Brom said, half crying. 'I've been thinking that I've gone mad, thinking that you were him, and I was Sam!' he said, and they let go of each other. 

'I've been waiting for you to say that for a long time, Sam.' Ondril said, and smiled. Brom smiled, too, but the smile turned to a frown. 

'Mr. Frodo, why did you say you'd take it again? You know what happened last time, and I don't want you to go through that again!' he said, and Ondril shook his head.

'It needs to be done, Brom. I had no choice.' He said, and Brom nodded. 

'Yes… I think I understand, just… I wish there was another way.' 

'So do I, Sam, so do I.' 

'And Param and Terry, they're…'

'Pippin and Merry.' Ondril said, but looked behind him. 'But don't tell them that. They don't know yet, and Brendalin told me not to tell them.' 

Brom nodded. 'Of course, Mr. Frodo.' He said, and they stayed, looking at the old artifacts around the room. They found many books written about the Fellowship, and the broken horn of Gondor being held by the statue that used to be the home of the Shards of Narsil. 

They stayed in the room for a good amount of time before Param and Terry came in, seeing if they wanted to come to the dinning-hall for dinner. They agreed to, and when they got there they found that dinner had all ready started. They took seats at the end, and started eating, listening to the dwarf's conversation, which, as usual, was picking on Froin. 

'Are you sure your going to be able to handle being one of the only female's there, Froin?' a rather fat one asked, and she shrugged. 

'You're just jealous. You want to be female, and you know it.' She said, and the dwarves, who had all ready been laughing burst out in a rather loud boom of voices. The other dwarf turned a rather bright red, and she smiled contently with herself. 

'Just try to control yourself, all right?' he said, and they stopped laughing to hear her response. 

'I suggest the same for you on the return home.' She said, and they roared with laughter again. Even the hobbits laughed at this, though the elves shuddered and turned the other way. 

Now, you might consider these jokes rather crude or unreasonable, but they are really not. For you see, Dwarven woman hardly ever leave their homes under the mountains, and when they do, it is only for something like retrieving a child or lost item. 

When one does so, they are normally alone, for Dwarven women fight just as well as Dwarven men, and they are hardly distinguishable from the males. They have beards, though not as long, and they have deep voices, though not as deep. Their beards tend to cover their more distinguishable features, and they tend to be very gruff. The fact that Froin left the mines to come on this journey is very rare among the dwarves, and the fact that she offered to go along with the Fellowship is even rarer. 

 So the jokes that were being said about her and her responses are very acceptable in Dwarven culture. This was most likely normal, and if the dwarf being picked on felt violated in any way they just had to ask for them to stop they would. The jokes do not show lack of respect, but a very high level of it, and are nothing out of the ordinary.

They ate the rest of dinner in this fashion, the elves leaving in a short time, as they were quick eaters, and left only the men, dwarves and hobbits behind. The hobbits, by this time, had had a few wines and were starting to loosen up a bit. They started laughing with the dwarves, and after a while the conversation turned to songs. The dwarves had been singing some of their own songs, but now one of the dwarves turned to Brom and nudged him with his elbows. 

'Let's hear some of yours! I want to see what hobbits have locked up in their mind's' he said, and Brom looked at the others, and Param and Terry jumped up onto their chairs, grinning. 

'You want to hear a song, do you?' 

'Which one do you suggest, Param?'

'I believe our personal favorite is called for this occasion.' They then started off together in a song like their grandfather's thousands of years before in the comfortable Green Dragon. 

Hey! Ho! To the bottle we go!

For our thirst is high, just like our woe

There's rain that falls, and wind that blows

Nice would be ale as along we go

Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain 

And the stream that falls from hill to plain. 

Better than rain or rippling brook 

 Is a mug of beer inside this Took!

Param finished, and they smiled cheekily at each other. They had heard the original song from Ondril when they were young hobbit-lads, and had changed the first part to their own liking. It was a personal favorite. 

The dwarves broke out in laughter and started clapping widely. They hadn't thought that the hobbits would have such a song. Param and Terry bowed and sat, laughing the whole time. They spent a good part of the rest of the night like this, sharing songs of their cultures. This proved that, again, hobbits and dwarves could form a common bond with each other. 

They were scheduled to stay in the Last Homely house for another month, while the elves went out to see that none of the Nazgul had come for them. The hobbits received sword lessons from Dweller, and when they were sure the Nazgul had not come back, Relnohen gathered the group together. 

'You will leave in the next week. Make sure you have everything you will need, and ask if there is something you don't have.' He said, and they heeded him, checking their packs thoroughly before they left. When the day came, they gathered early in the morning and only had to await the hobbits and Dweller. 

The hobbits were being led by Dweller to a small building behind the main one. When they got there Dweller opened the door quietly and ushered them inside. There they found another room like the one Param and Terry had found and shown Brom and Ondril, but full of armor. 

'Relnohen was very cautious about us using the old equipment; he would only let us take the swords.' She said, which explained the reason of their coming there. She went to the opposite side and took four swords. The hobbit's old swords.

'How did you get these?' Brom asked, taking the one that had been his companion years before. 

'Relnohen has told me of a great fire in the Shire many years ago. During this fire the swords were lost, and were picked up by dark men, who also came to Imladris to try and obtain some artifacts from here. He caught them, though, and made them give him the stolen artifacts. He had tried to give them to the right people in the Shire, but no one claimed them, so he could not. He kept them instead, giving them a shrine in the sword room.' She said, and the other's nodded. She gave Ondril Sting, and the other's their rightful swords. 'You have them according to your last name.' she said, and they nodded their thanks. 'We must leave, now, they are waiting for us.' She then led them out the door, and down to where they were greeted by Relnohen. 

'I see you are now properly equipped.' He said, and looked solemnly at the group of nine in front of him. 'The world of Middle-earth rests on your shoulders. I give you the luck of the elves to go with, and I hope to see you back here in a rather short amount of time with your task finished. None of you are held by any oath or vow and if you feel you cannot go on you may return. We understand.' He said, and they bowed, Brendalin having Ondril lead them out of Imladris. 

'Brendalin…' he said, and Brendalin looked down at him.

'Yes?'

'It's left, isn't it?' 

'Yes.' Brendalin answered, and they turned, walking down the road to the left of them. As they walked, Teredon walked to the front of the group, looking ahead. 

'What path are we taking, Brendalin?'

'I plan to go over the High Pass, take the Old Road down to the Old Bridge. From there our journey takes us south, following the Anduin to Mordor.' Brendalin answered, and Teredon nodded. 

''Tis a dangerous road.' 

'Yes it is, but we have no other choice. There are more evil things dwelling on the West side of the Misty Mountains than on the East, or even in Mirkwood.' He said, face grave. 


	11. Storm of the High Pass

**Hehe****… sorry to shoot you down, but you were going to find that only the hobbits (and someone else) was reincarnated. Aragorn was not one of them. ^^; Sorry, sorry. **

**~Hoshiko**

The High Pass

As the group came closer to the High Pass the green grass turned to white snow, and the air became colder and thinner. In three days it became constantly harder for the group to breath, and soon the hobbits were lagging behind. 

'Come along, young hobbits.' Teredon said, and ushered them forward. When they stopped the third night, they dug out a spot for a fire in the snow, and lit it. Soon the warmth of the fire melted their hands, and Brom offered to be the one to cook dinner. While he was crisping bacon, Teredon turned to Brendalin. 

'Brendalin, the hobbits are not able to keep up with the rest of the group any longer. I suggest we rest tomorrow, too, for even I can feel the effects of the mountain.' He said, and Brendalin took this into thought. 

'That would seem like a good idea, if we weren't so pressed with time.' He said, but when he looked at the hobbits he nodded. 'I believe a solution would be to travel in the morning and rest in the afternoon. We have yet to come to the High Pass, if memory serves an old man correctly.' He said, and Teredon nodded. 

'A wise choice. I just hope we do not encounter a blizzard or any thing of the sort.' He said, and Brendalin nodded. The bacon soon browned, and everyone was ready for supper. They ate as well as they could, but when Param and Terry had finished, a rather loud noise filled the camp, sending all eyes to them. Their stomachs were still growling, and they refused to silence themselves even with food. 

'Excuse me…' Param said; face twisting in a rather strange position. Froin smiled, and offered him her plate. He looked up at her, then down at the plate and she nodded. 

'I'm not hungry any longer, you can have it.' she said, and Param's face lit up despite the cold. 

'Really?' he asked, and she laughed, low and deep.

'Yes, of course. Take it.' she said, and he did so. Teredon did the same with Terry, and soon the two hobbits were happily chatting, plates clean. They were asleep not long after, though, warm under their blankets near the fire. Every one else ate and fell asleep, except Dweller and Relnik who offered to keep watch. They sat on their blankets; ready for any sort of attack and after a while Dweller coughed from the cold. Relnik stood and went to add wood to the fire, making it larger. 

'Stupid elf… walking on snow…' she muttered, and he turned his head. 

'I heard that.' 

'I know.' She said and he shrugged.

'I do not know what you are complaining about: you don't go half as deep as the others.' He said, and she nodded. 

'Right. I've never noticed before.' She said sourly and he laughed. 

'You do need to lighten up.' 

'Yes, so you've told me many a time before.' She said, and he shook his head. They kept watch the rest of the night, and in the morning they woke everyone for breakfast. While Sam was cooking again, Pippin looked up at Brendalin who was muttering to himself, maps spread over his knee. 

'When will we hit the Pass?' he asked, and Brendalin looked up. 

'We should come to it by the end of today, but we will rest for the afternoon. It is getting too difficult to climb at once.' He said, and looked up to the east of them. The pass loomed over them, looking silently down. 

They ate and cleaned up the camp, covering evidence of their residence there. They started to ascend the mountain again, and soon they came upon the thing they had been dreading. A snow storm, not only a snowstorm, but a blizzard. It began with a few snowflakes in a light blanket. 

'Snow…' Teredon said, and looked up at the sky. 'The Pass will be more difficult to go through with this.' He said, and Ondril looked down at the white on his sleeve. Hopefully it would stay as light as it was. Unfortunately, it did, quickly. It fell harder; flakes getting so large Ondril could only fit one flake in his palm at a time. The wind started to blow harder, and whipped their cloaks about them, while they tried to have them cling to themselves. 

The others helped along the hobbits, and while the taller ones tried to keep track of all of them, at one point they couldn't find Param. 

'Param?' Terry called through the snow, and Dweller turned quickly, looking down the hill. She could see the small form of a small hobbit dragging very far behind. She started back through the snow, and when she found him, she picked him up. Snow was in his hair, and his lips were an unhealthy blue. He shivered, and hardly seemed to realize he was moving. 

'Come along, Paragrim, you need to keep up.' She said, and put him in her under her cloak. He didn't stop shivering, but he regained color in his face. She trudged back up to the group, and they continued. Eventually, though, all the hobbits were carried by Dweller and Teredon, unable to walk through the snow on their own. 

The storm only became worse as they continued on their way, and Brendalin had to give up on his promise; he couldn't stop now. They stayed on their course until they came upon a small opening in the wall of the Pass. A cave, shelter from the storm. They hurried in gratefully, the hobbits being set down carefully. 

'Rest now, little ones, we will make a fire and a camp.' Teredon said, and they nodded numbly. The big-people did so, and at once the hobbits fell asleep next to the fire. As Froin watched them sleep, she looked up at Brendalin and spoke what was on everyone's mind. 

'Should we turn back, Brendalin? The weather is only bound to get worse, there must be an easier way.' She said, but Brendalin shook his head. 

'No. There is too much danger to the west. We are safer with bad weather than with foes on either side. It should pass with in the next twenty four hours.' He said, and the others nodded. 'We shall reside here until it passes.' He said, and the others fell asleep, Dweller cooking some food for them. They all fell asleep except Gandalf, and when the snow did not stop the next day, they stayed again. The hobbits became better, and the two younger ones were chatting happily, when Teredon turned to Brendalin. 

'Brendalin, we have been here for two days, and it has yet to stop. I have been over this pass many times, and never has it taken this long for a snow storm to blow over. There are some other devilries at work here.' He said, and Brendalin looked up from his maps. He looked out into the storm, then back to Teredon. 

'There very well might be. I have been fearing it, but I have hoped it not so.' He said, and the others looked at him, Brom nudging Terry and Param to get them to stop talking. 'Long ago, during the War of the Ring, there was an Istari by the name of Saruman the White. He was corrupted by the use of a Palantir, and became evil. His servant, Wormtongue eventually killed him, but his sole was not killed, and it was allowed to mingle in this earth. I am afraid it has taken a new body, exact in likeness and form, and is plotting against this Fellowship as he had done so many years before.' Brendalin explained, and Brom shook his head. 

"'How do you know this?' he asked, and Brendalin nodded gravely. 

"'I did not bring it up at the council, but I have told Relnohen of my suspicions. In this day and Age there is still a race of Istari's, five of us who were sent here by the Valar. We have been working, mostly in secret, to keep the peace of this world. There is a Wizard, who goes by the name of Lonel, who is the head of my order. He was the White, but I fear he has turned against us again. He is Saruman, in form and sole, and in my blindness I have just grasped on the fact that they are the same. Before the Council I went to him, to tell him of the delema. 

"'When I first came to him he acted just as he had for centuries, but slowly he started to show his true colors. We were discussing the stone, it's power, and who carried it. I told him it was a Hobbit, though I said no names, and he asked when you left. I told him I did not know, and he jumped up, angered. 

"'You do know!' he cried as he slammed the table with his fist. 'I am not an ignoramus! I know perfectly well what you have been up to, Mithrandir! You cannot hide anything from me.' I was taken back when he called me Mithrandir, for that is a very old name I had not heard in very long time, and I stood, too. 

"'You have been tracking my movements?' I asked, trying not to let on that I knew of that name. 

"'For a very long time, fool.' He said, and I shook my head. 

"'Saruman, you are the fool. You think that yet again you might be able to control the Ring when your last attempt ended in such failure?' he gave me a very cold stare, and pointed his staff at me. 

"'So, Gandalf, you have found out. Yes, I am Saruman, and I have come back to make you pay! I will win this time, and you are not about to stop me.' He said quietly, malace in his voice. I took my staff, and when he attacked me I blocked it, making for the door. He allowed me to go, and I could hear him screaming as I hurried out the door. 

"'Fine! Go! You cannot stop me this time, no one can stop me!' he cried insanely, and started laughing. His cruel laughter still rings in my head.' Brendalin said, and they all stared at him. When they dared to move, Ondril shook his head. 

'So you are Gandalf.' He said, voice shaking. 'I knew it when I saw you on my doorstep.' He said, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Yes, I am sorry, Ondril, but I could not risk unfriendly ears. You were right, though, I am Gandalf. As I have said, I was sent to look over Middle-Earth again after the War of the Ring.' He said, and Ondril nodded, though Teredon looked at him with disbelief.

'You are the Gandalf of the old stories?' he asked, and Brendalin nodded. 'Then why are you not still called Gandalf?' he asked, and Brendalin nodded again. 

'The Common Tongue has changed over the years, Teredon. The name Gandalf has changed to Brendalin, and Saruman to Lonel, and many other meanings to different words.' Brendalin said, and Teredon nodded. 

'Oh… That does make sense, but why did you not tell us of this before?' he asked, and Brendalin looked out the door of the cave. 

'It was not supposed to be revealed until the time called for it, and now it does.' He said, and everyone fell silent. 

The storm lasted the next two days, and Dweller finally spoke her mind. 

'Brendalin, we have been here for four days. We must keep going on our journey, we must go, or it will be too late.' She said, and he nodded. 

'You are right, I am afraid. We will leave tomorrow, and we mustn't stop until we are over the Pass. We have only half of it to go, we cannot stop now. The mountain cannot defeat us as it did before, Lonel must not be allowed to win.' He said, and everyone nodded, dreading the next day.


	12. The Road to Mirkwood

**Aha… yes, well, because of one of my grades these chapters will probably only be coming out only once a week on the weekends. Sorry, but I need to get the grade up. =/**

**~Hoshiko**

The Road to Mirkwood

The hobbits were awoken early the next morning by Froin, who had offered to do so. Param and Terry grumbled, but stood sleepily and put their things in their packs. Brom woke up and made a fast, but large breakfast, and when the sun, hidden by dark clouds, gave as much light as it was allowed, they started out. 

The wind whipped harshly around them, and it stung their eyes and noses. The hobbits did not say a word, but they soon could not feel their toes. The group plowed through the waist-deep snow, the hobbits being carried by Dweller and Teredon. 

No one complained, but everyone could feel another presence with them, dark and evil. The Ring was becoming more powerful in the time of despair, and it beckoned them all, even Relnik. On the air was also the foul voice of another evil force. They all guessed it was Lonel, and their suspicions were proven correct when the whole mountain started to quake. 

'Lonel!' Teredon cried, the hobbits clinging harder to him. 'He is doing as he had before! He will defeat us!' He said, though Brendalin shook his head. 

'He cannot prevail, this time!' Brendalin called back, and they kept going, despite the shaking ground. After a few more hours, Relnik pointed ahead of them, though the snow. 

'The end of the pass is near, I can see it!' he cried through the wind, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Yes, you are correct, we must go on!' he said, trudging forward, but suddenly was thrown against the wall, along with the others. The quaking took a violent increase, and they cowared against the wall. Nothing happened, though, and the quaking ceased totally. The hobbits breathed a sigh of relief, though Brendalin looked around in suspicion. 

'Nothing's happened!' Param said in delighted surprise. 

'No… it seems it hasn't…' Brendalin said, and took one last look around. When he decided all was all right, they continued on. The snow eventually ceased as well, and when they finally reached the end of the pass, Brendalin frowned at what he found in front of him. A part of the cliff face had sheared off and dropped into the valley below, blocking the way to the south. The side was too shear climb, and too high to lower themselves down. Everyone else saw this, too and Ondril frowned.

'How will we get to the south?' he asked, and Dweller shook her head. 

'This is impossible to scale!' she cried, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Lonel has done this.' He said, and looked down at the Pass' trail, which led to the bottom. 'We must climb down the mountain now, before I can decide on what to do.' He said gravely, and they started their decent, hearts heavy. The decent was steeper than the ascent, and they reached the bottom at the last lights of day, where they stopped to make camp. Brendalin immediately sat down and started to ponder what they might do. They made camp next to him, and while he thought they ate dinner, and at the end he stood. 

'We must go through the old forest of Mirkwood.' He said, and Froin's fork dropped from her hand. They had not expected to hear of his decision, and this one was not to their liking, especially to a dwarf. 

'Mirkwood?' she repeated, eyes darting in it's direction. 'The place that used to be full elves?'

'Yes, it was many years ago. Is there something wrong with elves?' Relnik asked, and she shook her head. 

'No, elves are fair enough, but the creatures that dwell in it now are not!' she said, and Param stopped eating to listen to her. 'I have family under the mountains in that forest, and strange things can be found in it. Giant spiders that will suck your blood, wargs, orcs, and even…' her eyes darted to it again, 'Ondors.' She said, and Param shook his head. 

'Ondors? Aren't they great, stallion like creatures with horns?' he asked and she shook her head. 

'I do not speak of the ones of the Shire tales. These are as black as night, with red, glaring eyes, and foaming mouths. They are blood-thirsty, and rutheless, as big as Balrogs. It has the body of a man, and the legs of a horse. They say there is one in the old forest, haunting the trees, looking for fresh blood.' She said, and a shiver ran down Param's spine. 

'We have no choice!' Brendalin interrupted, and shook his head. 'The rock's face is too shear to scale, and we cannot go around it.'

'When will we reach the forest?' Dweller asked, and Brendalin looked ahead of them again, taking out his pipe. 

'By the end of two days time' he said, and all nodded, some going back to dinner. Param, on the other hand, sat and starred into the fire. The story of the Ondor seemed to have frightened the hunger out of him. He eventually fell asleep onto Terry and the next day he seemed to have forgotten it. 

They awoke the next day and Brom cooked breakfast as usual. When they had eaten everything was packed and they started on the old road to the old forest of Mirkwood. By the end of the day a strange darkness loomed in front of them, and though it looked dark, Relnik smiled. 

'The forest was once a great elven-home of the Silvan folk. They were ruled by Thranduil and his wife, and it was home of Legolas, the son of Thranduil. He was the elf of the first fellowship, and after the War of the Ring it became a place where dwarves and elves could meet together in peace, following after Legolas and Gimli.' He said, but the smile from his lips left. He was always interested in the old forest, and had read many books on it. 'After a great while, when most of the elves had left the dwarves took to the mountains in the woods and the forest itself fell back into black powers. Now the trees are old, with spiders lurking in their depths. It is really unknown of what happens in side it, for if the dwarves leave their mines, they do so through the side of the mountains near the edge of the forest.' He said, and fell silent. No one spoke for a great while until his voice could again be heard, this time in song. 

O! Mirkwood, fair be thee 

Your trees are hearts of green

O! Peace within your borders

Where Elves did dwell

Nothing good now, everything fell

O! To many you were home

To warm the heart and heal the bone 

O! Where did you go?

A different world is weaved

For now your heart is of brown leave

Come back to us

O home of old

Fair be those that your stories told

Long ago, in an age of old

Where fair be those of stories told

He sang it at first in Quenya, then in the Common tongue, as closely as he could match it, and sighed. 'That is the old song of the forest, telling of the sadness that many Nandi elves felt when they heard of it's demise.' He said, and fell silent again.

Mirkwood loomed in front of them like an endless pit of darkness. They had been able to see it's borders sense midday, and now it seemed more threatening than before. It was near night, and Brendalin stopped them before they became too close to the border. 

'We must stop now for the night, I do not want to go into the forest just yet.' He said, and they stopped, setting up camp quickly. They made the fire in the same fashion, and all huddled around the welcoming light. Froin would every so often look at the dark forest ahead of them and shiver. 

They ate quietly, and slept quietly, Froin and Relnik offering to keep watch. They did so with constant guard, Froin jumping a slight bit at some noises. Relnik saw her reaction, and suddenly laughed, his voice rather deep for an elf. 

'You, Mistress Dwarf, need to calm yourself.' He said and she looked at him, annoyed. 'Mirkwood is not all danger, not in a place where the Silvan elves had one dwelt.' 

'I am not frightened, I'm just careful. You seem to only remember the days of the elves in that forest, but I know of the days of the dwarves.' She said, voice rather bitter. This took him by slight surprise, though not much, and his face grew cold. 

'I know of the enchantments that are still there.' 

'You know of the enchantments that have been gone for a very long time. I know of what dwells there, Master Elf, and it is not fair beings with golden hair. My cousin Loin lives in the mountains under that forest, and he's seen what happens at night, when the darkness grows blacker than any darkness you have ever seen.' She said, and looked at it. 'They say if you look into it for too long from the outside you can see the dangers inside. Believe it or not, I have a foreboding of stepping foot in the place. Elves are not the only ones with foresight, Master Elf.' She said, and he fell silent. He held much pride for his race, and this hit him rather hard. To keep his dignity he did not reply, but instead looked out into the darkness beyond the camp. 

The others awoke the next morning, and Brom put breakfast together. Their supplies were starting to run low, and they ate slowly, to fill their stomachs more. Brom looked wearily in his pack, and shook his head. 

'We're running out of food. We're short on meats and vegitables.' He said, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Yes, we will need to restock at some point, but we will not be able to for maybe a long while. It is a long and dreary road in Mirkwood, and I dare not go off the Old Road.' He said, and Brom nodded. 

'I do wish we had brought more…' he said, and started to clean up the dishes. When everything was packed and ready to go they set out again, entering the dark, dismal forest of Mirkwood. 

A shiver ran down everyone's spine as they took their first step into the dark forest. Trees toward over them, bent and old. Their branches bent and twisted like vines, leafless and grey. If there were leaves allowed to grow, they only did so at the top. They blocked most of the sunlight, making it hard to see very far in front of them. It immediately reminded Brom and Ondril of Moria. A Moria of trees. 


	13. The Mage of Mirkwood

**All right, so I lied =D I got another chapter up!! YAY!!! Hehe, I like this chapter, though it's a bit repetative. ^^;;; There's this thing… I believe they call it creativity… I'm lacking. =P Sorry, sorry, I apologize.**

**~Hoshiko**

The Mage of Mirkwood 

The Old Forest Road had been so under used now that it was hardly distinguishable from the rest of the forest. Weeds grew in it, and young dead trees hid its old trail. Only those with the keenest eyes could see it, and even then it was difficult. Because of this Relnik stayed in the lead, everyone else following close behind. 

'We will reach the other side in five days. Keep eyes out for things that move, for I do not wholly trust these borders any longer.' Brendalin said, and everyone nodded, constantly searching their surroundings. 

They traveled through the dark trees for the next two days, making sure to stay quiet and look out for creatures. Froin's axe was always in hand, ready for anything, though Relnik seemed rather relaxed. As they made camp the second night Relnik looked around the area. When he was convinced they were safe, he jumped lightly from the tree, and before Teredon, who was currently checking his sword over. 

'You cannot be frightened like the Dwarf-lass, for there is nothing out there. I have not seen or heard anything but the creaking of old trees.' He said, and Teredon did not spare him a glance. He, instead stood, and started to wield the metal weapon in his hand.

'I have heard stories, Relnik, and I desire none of them to be proven true. Froin could be very right in fearing this forest, I suggest we keep on our guard and take no chances.' He said, and Relnik shook his head. They were all too quick to suspect danger; he had seen nothing for many days. 

Brom stirred the cony soup with care, making sure none of the broth spilled. He had been just as wary of the forest as Froin had been, and his eyes darted at every dark tree that was surrounding him every once in a while. When he was satisfied that nothing was going to attack them his eyes fell on Ondril. 

He was sitting on a rock near the fire, staring into the forest, eyes glazed over. Slowly the stone was starting to take its toll, like the ring had once done. He slept less and ate less, talked less, and yet insisted that nothing was wrong. Brom knew, though, he could remember what the ring had done to his friend. He wasn't fooled, and Ondril knew he wasn't, but Ondril would not let him worry. 

They ate in silence, and went to bed in silence, Froin offering, again, to keep watch. Dweller shook her head, though, and stood. 

'Froin you have been keeping watch for the past four nights. If you don't sleep you'll become ill. I'll do it.' she said, but Froin stood also. 

'I feel better if I do, I don't need to sleep as much as men do.' She argued. Dweller only sighed and sat down again, seeing the young dwarf would not be moved. So, Froin kept watch along with Dweller, and as Dweller knew, Froin was constantly dozing. Every time she jerked out of it, Dweller would shake her head, and look out into the forest. 

'I told you. You need sleep, now, go to rest, I'll get one of the hobbits to take your place.' She said, but still Froin shook her head. 

'No, I will not allow you to wake them. Just let me be, I'm fine.' She said, and Dweller shook her head again. Froin settled herself back down, and in a few minutes were snoring rather loudly. Dweller rolled her eyes and let Froin sleep. 

Ondril rolled and jerked in his sleep. After a moment he awoke, sitting straight up, hand clutching the stone in his pocket. He took it out hastily, and looked at it. The black was swirled with a dark gray and Ondril could see them, like clouds in black night. He stopped breathing heavily, and clutched it in his hand, looking up. 

When he did so he cried out, for he could see something moving around above them. The cry awoke everyone, Froin faster than the others, and they looked around confused. Froin and Relnik's weapons were ready in hand. 

'What's happened?' Brendalin asked quickly, going over to Ondril. 

'There's something in the trees, they were right about us, and when I screamed they fled!' Ondril gasped, and Param and Terry's eyes immediately went to the trees. 

'What was it, my dear Hobbit?'

'I am not certain, I could not see very well.' Ondril said, and Froin snorted. 

'Spiders, orcs, who knows in these borders!' she said, and Relnik was about to differ when something caught his eye.

In the distance he could see things rushing through the trees, none all too graceful, but swift none the less. 

'Orcs!' he cried, and the others looked in that direction. They could hear the deep drum of the creatures now, and hear the battle cries in their black language. 

'Run!' Brendalin cried, and they all picked up their belongings, put out the fire, and started running in the other direction. They sprinted the best they could through the trees, and after a long while they were forced to stop, for before them there was no way to run. The path was closed by, what looked like giant spider webs. 

'What's this, then?' Param asked, plucking at one of the strings. It refused to break though, and before the group drop six gigantic spiders, large enough to ride. They backed up slowly, and the spiders advanced upon them, eyes glistening with hunger. Behind them they could hear the sounds of the orcs coming, ready for battle. 

'We must fight!' Dweller cried, and a spark came into Froin's eyes. She had been waiting for this, and she nodded vigorously. 

'Let us fight! They want a battle and they will get one!' she cried, before jumping at one of the spiders and slicing it's legs off. Relnik helped with the spiders until he was needed with the orcs and Brom also helped with them. 

When the orcs did come, everyone fought with their best skills. After a while, when the hobbits had finally remembered their hand's old skills, Param wiped the sweat from his brow, and looked around. 

'We're not doing too bad!' he said, and put his sword into the stomach of an orc behind him. The battle raged on for what seemed like, a long while. No matter how hard everyone fought, there seemed to be more orcs to fight. 

'I knew we should not have come here!' Froin cried, and sliced at an opposing spider, taking off most of its legs. Another one jumped on her from behind, and as it was about to sting her two arrows were shot into its eyes, making it reel back in pain. She looked behind her as it twitched and died, seeing Relnik there, shooting off more orcs. 

'Yes, now stop bragging and help me cut these webs!' he said, and she nodded, running over and doing so. When she sliced at them with her axe, though, it just bounced off, and the axe flew out of her hand into a near by tree. Relnik rolled his eyes and gave her one of his long-knives. She looked at it for a second, and started tearing the webs away with the finer tool than her own. He shot a path to her axe, and retrieved it for her, going back, and putting it in her sheath. 

'You can thank me later.' He said, and she snorted. 

'You can do the same.' She said, and he laughed. After cutting for a while he shook his head, and let out an exasperated sigh. 

'This is getting unreasonable!' he said, and motioned for her to step back. 'Fight them off behind my back and I'll make this go much faster.' He said, and she nodded, doing so. While she took the orcs away he shot at a large group of cords, making many of them snap apart. The cords themselves hit many orcs when they were flung back, knocking them out or killing them. He did it many times again, and when most of the path in front of them was cleared he went back to the battle he had left. 

Most of the orcs had been slain now, and he helped to kill the last few. Some of them used a bow, and kept shooting at the hobbits, and though some hit, none penetrated their skin. The others looked on in disbelief, and when Relnik had shot the last few everyone looked at the four small figures, panting. 

'I'm curious to know how you all can not be hurt by any arrow, for I know that Orc arrows are not a dull item.' Relnik said, and Param looked down at his body, one arrow was hanging from his shirt, and he pulled it out hastily. 

'Yes, well, you see we…' he said, and Brendalin smiled. 

'I believe our young hobbits have a secret to share.' He said, and Param and Terry looked down in shame. 

'We took some chain mail from the weapon shed the night before we left…' Param explained, and Terry jumped in. 

'Yes, we thought it might be useful…' he said, and saw the look on the other's faces. 'But don't blame Ondril and Brom, we gave it to them, they didn't know that we stole it.' he said, and Brendalin, surprisingly laughed. 

'You are smart, young ones, smarter than you let on.' He said, but his face immediately went to the way they had just come. They could hear the sounds of orcs coming behind them again. He pointed his staff in the opposite direction and started running. 

'Go! We cannot stay!' he said, and they started running again. It did not take long for the orcs to catch up to them, and they were soon surrounded. It did not last long, though, because through the trees there was a long, piercing shriek. It made the orcs freeze, and eventually start to scatter. It sounded like an over-grown bird of prey calling at it's finding of its meal, and it made the hearts of all jump. 

'What is it now?' Terry asked, obviously frightened out of his mind. 

'Is it-' Brom started, and Brendalin looked into the dark forest. 

'It is. An Ondor, just as Froin had warned us. It is another demon, in close relation to the Balrog. It breathes fire and can wield powerful magic as a weapon. We are in more danger now than ever, FLY!!' He cried, and they started running in the opposite direction again. After a while they came upon another cobweb blocking the path, and everyone immediately started hacking away at it. Relnik made more cuts than anyone, and even though his tools could cut they found it too thick. 

'We'll never do this in time!' Teredon cried, and he was right, for behind them he could hear the cracking of trees and could see the coal-red eyes of the thing they had been fearing. After a moment the head of it could be seen clearly through the darkness, and everyone turned in fear. 

'Stay back!' Brendalin said, and took out both his sword and staff. His sword, Domespell*, glowed green from the magic in his hands, and his staff did the same. He faced the Ondor now, with a stern face, and looked it in the eyes. It's reaction was to bring itself to it's full height, standing on it's hind legs. It did have the body of, what looked like, a man and the legs of a stallion. Its eyes glowed like red coals in a hot fire, and it let out it's call again, fire spitting from it's mouth. It brought darkness along with it, making it seem larger than thought possible. This did not stop Brendalin, though, and he called up to the great beast. 

'You will go no more further!' he cried, and Ondril shook his head. 

'Gandalf, not again!' he cried, for he knew what he was going to do. 

'I am servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of arnor. I am the weilder of the gray magic, none can match my power. You will not go further, fire mage of Morgoth!' he cried, and in front of them it seemed all power went to him, and a bright light enveloped him. The Ondor only cried again, and his eyes grew a brighter red. 'You will not go further, go back to the shadows! You will not go further!' he cried as loudly as he could and he aimed both his staff and sword at the great beast, a beam of light coming out of the end of it. It hit the Ondor, and the Ondor covered its face, a great gash showing up on its arm. It cried out in pain, and put it's hands in the air, a great fireball appearing in them both. Once it became large enough, the beast threw it out of its hands and it hit the wizard's sword. Though Brendalin buckled under the blow he still stood, and he again gathered, it seemed, all things to him. The light about his grew as the darkness about the beast grew, and at the same time they both wielded their magic at each other. The two attacks hit and in a bright flash they both disappeared. 

The others watched in horror at the fight, and when the two disappeared they stood, dumb founded. 

'Brendalin!!' Ondril cried in horror as the wizard was no where to be found. Arrows again started to shoot in the air past their heads and Dweller ordered them to run, taking the position of leader. 


	14. Forest of the Mountain

Forest of the Mountain

They ran on further and when they could no longer hear the sounds of the orcs they stopped, the hobbits throwing themselves down on the ground, clinging to each other for support. Froin had to be held down until she calmed herself, and when she did so she took a deep breath and snorted. 

'Curse on this forest.' She said and sat down on a tree stump. Dweller looked to the west of them, then the east of them and nodded to herself. 

'We must go.' She said, and when no one moved she called louder. 'We must go!' she said, and everyone stood slowly. They walked on the path for a very short amount of time and after a few moments Relnik loaded his bow and looked in the tree tops above them. 

'What is it?' Teredon asked and Relnik kept his weapon pointed at the trees.

'Some thing was scurrying above us…' he said quietly and the others looked up nervously. When they did so, though, they regreted it, for when they looked back down they were faced with a circle of axe's. 

'Four halflings, two men, an elf and a dwarf. What an odd company.' A dwarf said and came from the group of axes. 'What is your business in Mirkwood?' he asked, and Froin stepped forward. 

'We are the company that set out from Rivendell.' She said, and a light seemed to have been lit in his eyes when she did so. 

'So I see.' He said and was about to end when a voice came from the trees above them. 

'And elves do _not_ scurry.' A voice said, and three other bodies dropped in front of them. Elves with golden hair and blue eyes; Silvan folk. 

'Please, we need your help.' Dweller said, stepping to the front of the group. 'We were just attacked by a group of orcs, and our leader, a wizard, was destroyed by an Ondor.' She said and a slight murmur could be heard through the group of dwarves. 

'An Ondor? She's been out and about.' The dwarf said and looked at the elf. They started talking in a strange language, and when they received blank looks from the company the dwarf nodded. 'Come, we will help you, you have come through much toil to get here. It is not safe to discus such matters here.' The dwarf said and he left, the company following behind him, the elves staying behind in the back of the group. It seemed they walked for hours off the path until they came to a great stone wall- the wall of the mountains. 

'The Mountains of Mirkwood.' Froin breathed, and the dwarf ahead of them nodded. 

'Yes, home to dwarves and elves, and refuge for any unlucky traveler in the forest.' He said and Relnik looked up at the mountain. 

'Elves?' 

'Yes, Relnik, son of Relnohen, even elves.' One of the three elves said and the dwarf whispered something to the doorway, making it creek open slowly. Everyone looked up in awe at it, and had to be motioned to go in. When they did they all gasped at what they saw. 

A great stone hall met their eyes, with dwarves and few elves as a guard. The hallway's arches had intricate designs carved into it, elegant. Work of the elves, though the pillars themselves were very square, work of the dwarves. They were each the height of an Ondor and beyond the first arch were a great series of steps. Works of both races were combined to form a beautiful sight nothing could match. 

'The legacy of Legolas and Gimli lives on…' Relnik said, almost inaudible, but one of the elves heard him and nodded. 

'After Thranduil left the forest became too dangerous to live in, and many of the dwarves started to make the cities. The elves stayed above ground as long as we could, but it did not last long and we moved into the mines. We patrol the forest around the mines and come back here for food and rest. Our hearts are still in the trees, but our refuge is under them.' The elf said and Relnik nodded. 

'You knew Legolas?'

'Knew him?' the elf laughed and looked around the mines. 'We were the best of friends! But he desired to go over the sea and I did not. It was a choice we all had to make, and some partings were more bitter than others.' He said and Dweller walked up to the dwarf that was leading them. 

'Where are you leading us?' she asked and the dwarf spared her a glance. 

'To the city of Khazquendi. The king and his officials request to see new comers first.' He answered shortly, and Froin hurried to the front of the group.' 

'And who is the king?' she asked, and the dwarf smiled. 

'I believe you know him. He is Loin, lord of the mountains of Mirkwood.' He said and Froin's deep laugh could be heard through out the hall, some heads turning. 

'Loin, you old bat, you did it again!' she said and they kept their course.

Now, the hobbits had stayed in the back of the group, not sure of what to expect of the great hall. Ondril and Brom had honestly thought they were going to encounter a desolate and orc-filled hallway with no life to speak of. Param and Terry, on the other hand, had expected dwarves mining gold right next to them, with dirt everywhere. It was nothing that any of them had thought of. There was apparent life everywhere with guards at each archway and the sounds of digging from deep inside the mines. The sounds of gruff laughter could be heard every once and a while and everything seemed to pulse with life. 

They walked up these stairs for, what seemed a great while until they came to three doors. Above each doorway were words written in Elvish and Dwarvish, seeming to label each room. They went in the middle one, though, and when they walked through their breath caught in their throat again. 

This doorway revealed a grand hall, with a ceiling taller than the previous one. In it was a market place of dwarves and elves, with carts upon carts of goods. In the walls of the hall were separate rooms, and in the center was a closed off area. They were led through the great hall and as they walked through they got strange glances from dwarves and elves. They were soon waved off, though, and the group went to the building in the middle of the hall. 

When they walked to it the found that they had more steps to climb until they got to the top of the building. When they did so the dwarf knocked on the great oak doors and the sound rang through out the halls.

 The hobbits were still looking around in wonder when they opened and revealed another, smaller hall. In this hall were four thrones. Two smaller, two larger, each with a body in them. In the smaller were two dwarves, each clad in jewels precious metal, and with large crowns. One, like Froin, had a smaller beard and a more feminine version of the other's clothes, which were both made of fine red and blue silk. The larger chairs held two elves, each clad in mithril and stunning white robes. They both seemed to have an eerie glow and their hair was pale blond, each with a delicate circlet upon their heads. When the fellowship entered they all stood. 

When the group reached the end of the rug the dwarven rulers gave them a very gruff smile and the Elven rulers looked at them with stern, wise faces. 

'My lords,' the lead dwarf said and bowed to all four of them, while the dwarves did the same and the elves bowed in their own separate way, 'this is the company set out from Rivendell not too long ago. They have come into our forest and seek refuge.' He said and the male ruling elf nodded. 

'Yes, thank you.' He said and turned to his queen and the dwarven rulers, 'they have gone through much toil and lost their leader, Brendalin. He was a valuable ally and friend to Mirkwood.' 

'You've seen this?' the dwarf asked and the elf nodded. 

'Yes, I have.' 

'Very well. That is a…' he paused, 'heart-wrenching fate. He was a very good friend to the dwarves and elves of this city.' 

'You all look very weary. You may stay here, for we welcome all those opposed to the new forces in the south.' The female elf said and the female dwarf nodded. 

'Yes, go now and rest. We will talk of other things later.' She said, and all bowed, being ushered out by the dwarves and elves that they came in with. 

'Wasn't that a… might short?' Param asked and the dwarf snorted. 

'No, they need time to decide things. We have lived together in peace for many years, of course, but we are of different races and we take time on deciding the best of things. You will be called again when they have come to a decision.' He said, and led them back out into the hallway with the three doors. 'The one on the right is where most dwarves tend to stay, and the one on the left is where the elves do the same. You may choose which ever you'd like, and we will tell you when you should come back.' The dwarf said, and left back to the outside. The fellowship, however, took the time to decide which one they would prefer. They decided that they should stay together to sleep, coming to the decision of which one to sleep in, however, took a great deal of time. They finally decided on the Elven side, with surprisingly little resistance from Froin. 

'No, I want to see how an elf would be able to live under a mountain such as these do.' Froin said when she was asked of her opinion and they went in. Her questions were immediately answered when they walked into the new hall. 

This hall was clearly made for the elves, with statues and artwork of them. The building tops seemed to flow like water, and were made with such detail that it seemed ageless. The buildings and artwork, though, were not the most amazing thing. 

In the center stood a small forest, with a very large tree growing right in the middle of it. It had yet to touch the ceiling, but it was the largest tree any of them had ever encountered. In the branches of this forest, they could see many lights and more buildings, built in the regular elvish fashion. When they looked up they found large holes cut out of the mountainside, giving light to the forest, and an underground stream flowed freely through it. When they looked at the ground they found that deep layers of dirt had been laid down from the forest floor, and the trees grew from this dirt. The elves lived in an underground forest, a shadow of Mirkwood's former glory. 

'Genius…' Relnik whispered in awe at seeing the place, but they could not say a word, for they were still taking it in. 

'How many elves are there left in Middle-earth?' Teredon asked after a moment and Dweller started walking further inside. 

'It seems many of the Mirkwood elves did not leave, as did their prince. There are few less here than when Mirkwood was at the beginning of the third age.' She said, and they made their way to the forest. 

It did not take long for them to do so, and when they came under the first tree they could hear murmurs of elves above their heads. When they walked in the murmurs immediately ceased and a voice called out in Sindarin. Relnik answered when they did so, and three elves dropped down in front of them. 

'Oh, yes, we were told you might be coming over to this side of the mines.' The first one said and everyone got a good look at him. He was tall and had light-blonde hair.  He looked to the hobbits like Relnik, and when they were being shown to their rooms Brom turned to Ondril. 

'I'm afraid I might have a might of trouble telling those two apart.' He said uneasily and Ondril nodded. 

'Yes, they do look rather similar, don't they?' he said and they were shown to the places they were to sleep. There was a great stairway that led up the largest tree, and below it were fountains and different levels of the earth. 

'Many of us are from Lorien.' The elf explained in the front, 'so we have many things from the great forest here, along with Mirkwood items. There was an item called Galadriel's Mirror, used by the great queen herself. It is said that the Ring Bearer looked into it and saw the destruction of the Shire, and it came to be, though he saved it.' he said and ushered them to climb the stairs. 

'I can't help but think this reminds me of something…' Terry said, looking up the stairs, and indeed he was right. Everything in the forest took on characteristics of Lorien. The lighting set off the same eerie silver color, and the elves hair seemed to glow in it's light. The base of the tree looked like the place the original fellowship had slept those many nights in Lorien and there was still uneasiness to the whole place. The elvish way of life seemed to have been preserved perfectly in this underground forest. 


	15. The Lord and Lady of Greenwood the Great

**OH MY FREAKING GOD! THIS TOOK ME SO LONG! I apologize so very much for this not coming out sooner, but, you see, I had very bad writer's block and much to do! I hope I didn't loose all my (about 2... possibly) readers! I'm so sorry! Forgive me!**

**Oh, I also want to mention that the characters (weather original, or not) are not movie-based, but rather, book based. They do not have to look like the actors, but instead look however you would like them to. I beg you to use your imagination! Good bye, and good night!**

**~Hoshiko**

The Lord and Lady of the Wood

            'You may sleep at the base of the tree, it is the warmest and,' the elf looked at the dwarf and hobbits, 'safest place, I believe, you can be.' He said, and the hobbits looked down the trunk of the tree. They were very high up; more so than they would have fancied. That plan was well made.   'You may find the decisions might take a fair amount of time, so I would suggest you go and rest and enjoy yourselves. There is no safer place in Greenwood the Great now, except the mountains.' The elf said and before turning Ondril spoke up from the middle of the group. 

            'If I may ask, what is the name of the elven rulers?' he said, voice squeaking a small bit. The elf smiled at him, though, and looked up to, what they guessed, was the royal chambers. 

            'Her name is Nimril, niece of the long-departed king Thranduil. She is the fairest queen Mirkwood has ever had. His name is Celedor, great-nephew of Celeborn, son of Calalim. Calalim was Celeborn of Doriath's sister. Our royalties became married soon after Legolas left over the sea, and when Thranduil left he gave the woods to them to rule.' The elf explained and looked about the tree.

            'They have not arrived yet, let yourselves go and rest. I apologize for bringing all of you up here, I suspected they would have come.' He said, and ushered them back down the stairs. Going down was much faster than going up, and once the hobbits were on the ground, they found a nook in the tree, put out their blankets and bedrolls, and went to sleep. Teredon, however, looked suspiciously around the trees and sat on a stone bench, away from the group. He sat alone, in silence for a great while, until Dweller sat next to him. 

            'Strange to see you off by yourself.' She said, and he did not spare her a glance, instead he stood and went to the fountain that was just in front of them. 

            'Why do you have no trust in men?' he asked her, and she looked at him in surprise. This was not what she expected to hear. 

            'I do not know what you mean.' She answered, and he shook his head. 

            'I have heard the venom in your voice when you speak of any man in history. Why do you have no trust in them? Of what race are you? He asked, and she glared at him.

            'I am of mankind.'

            'Then why do you carry no respect for your own race?' he asked, and grabbed onto her arm. 'What are you afraid of?' She looked at him with loathe and jerked her arm away, going back to the group. He just shook his head and walked off the other way, avoiding looking back at her. To Relnik, who had heard the whole thing, it sounded as if they weren't going to talk for a few days. 

            When Ondril awoke the next morning he felt more refreshed then he had sense they left Rivendell. He stood up and stretched, seeing that everyone else was up and about. 

            'Have a good night's sleep, Ondril?' Param asked with a smirk. 'It's mid-day.' He said, and Ondril saw it was so. He did nothing but shrug it off, though, and he sat back down, leaning on the trunk of the tree. He was surprised to see Brom offer him a plate of food. Good food, and much of it, like they hadn't seen in a great deal of time. 

            'They've decided, but we wanted to wait for everyone to wake up to go see them.' Brom said with a smile. 'Here's some food, eat up, you're looking mighty thin.' He said, and Ondril accepted the plate gratefully. He ate, and when he was done Brom took it from him. 

            'The other four are looking around the mines, most likely. They should be back in a short bit for food, unless Froin's eating at her cousin's. She couldn't stop going on about how wonderful his rule must be here. It was rather amusing after a while.' Terry said, he was currently brushing off a mushroom for Brom to cook. He gave it to the hobbit and Brom cut it up, putting it in the pot. 

            'This is the most food we've had for weeks...' Brom mumbled, but all of them could hear the content in his voice. 

            'This place, it...' Ondril started, not quiet knowing that he was speaking. 'It is rather unsettling... it's very quiet, and rather... I don't even know how to explain it...'

            'I know what you mean.' Param said, sitting next to his cousin. 'It has a strange feeling, but we are safe.' Ondril starred at his younger cousin's words, and Terry stared with his mouth open. Param saw the look they were giving him, and smiled. 'That's what Dweller said, at least.' Terry then nodded and started eating his food. When he was quiet done, and they were all content, they could hear the voice of Froin singing. It was an old dwarven tune that she knew well, and when she saw the hobbits she smiled. 

            'Small masters!' she said happily 'I see you're all awake! Isn't this place wonderful? The best mine I've seen sense I left home.' 

            'It should be the only mine you've seen, too.' A voice said behind them. It was Teredon, and he was smiling. 'Unless you have the wings of a bird and fly off at night.' Froin laughed a booming laugh that echoed through the mines and pat Teredon roughly on the back. 

            'You're a funny one, master Teredon. How do you know that I do not?'

            'Because your snores wake me up at least five times during the nights.' Teredon said, and smiled. He had dealt with dwarven woman before, and he knew how to act around them. She just laughed again, when two other people came up to the group. It was Dweller and Relnik, and they both looked as if they had just had the time of their lives. 

            'And what have you two been doing?' Froin asked, laughing at the grin on Relnik's face. 

            'You have no idea how good it feels to spend time with some one of your own race.' Relnik said, and Dweller put a hand on the side of her mouth. 

            'He's fallen in love with someone.'

            'Who?'

            'I have not.'

            'Yes you have!' Dweller said, pointing an accusing finger at Relnik. 'You blushed when she looked at you.' She then laughed, and everyone glanced at each other. It seemed this new safety had lightened their hearts a great deal; they had never seen her act like this. 

            'I think it's the strange food.' Brom muttered to himself, and he started putting the fire out. Dweller seemed to have caught her almost childish mood, and it quickly changed. She sat down, and was about to fill her pipe when an elf approached them. 

            'Master's and Mistress', the High Ones will see you now.' He said and bowed. They followed him, Dweller dusting her dirty over-coat, and followed him up the stairs. They weren't half as long as they had seen the previous day, and they were led to a platform out side of a tall building. Ondril and Brom were increasingly reminded of Lothlorien. 

            'Master Ondril, do you think the same thing will happen?' he asked, and Ondril kept his eyes straight ahead. 

            'I do not know, Brom. We'll see.' He answered, and the doors were opened. 

They revealed a shining couple, glowing in their own light. Both of their hair was long, his the color of spun-gold, and they looked just as beautiful as they had before. If it were possible, Nimril was more beautiful than before. In their more awakened state, they could see her completely flaw-less skin, ice-blue eyes, and silver hair. Now, you might have seen the movie of Lord of the Rings, with all the blonde-haired, blue eyed elves running around, but here it was much different. There were no blondes, but rather golden, (which I have often referred to as 'blonde,' it was easier to do so,) silver, light brown, or black hair. Hers shimmered with the slightest movement, making her more beautiful than any of them, save Dweller, Ondril, and Brom had ever seen. Ondril and Brom, however, had near-forgotten Galadriel's beauty and they still stared in wonder. If it was possible to forget an elf's beauty, though, it was not possible to forget an elf's eyes. It surprised the two, because of the couple's 'youth,' they had expected them to not look as wise as Galadriel and Celeborn, but they were very wrong. Though the two had ageless faces, their eyes were wise with it. It would be quite impossible to say they were not elven royalties. 

            Ondril, with out thinking, spoke first, face blue with the light that the two gave off. 

            'Excuse me for staring, Milady, but your beauty is such as that of Galadriel, if not more!' he said, and she smiled kindly at him. 

            'Thank you, Master Baggins,' she looked at everyone, 'and all! We are very honoured that you have chosen this side as your staying-quarters. I trust you had a good night's rest.' They all nodded, Dweller and Relnik bowing in the proper elvish fashion. 

            'Honoured indeed!' Celedor said, inclining his head the slightest bit. 'It has been a long while sense kin of our Dwarven companions have passed through these halls. Alas, it is the same with our other elven friends. We welcome you, especially Relnik, and Aradraen of Dunedain, we are glad you have returned. You have not visited us in a great while.' 

            'Yes, and for that we apologize, there were issues that had to be taken care of.' 

            'Understood. You may stay as long as you may like, and you are free to roam the mines as you please.' 

            'Thank you, Lord and Lady of the Wood.' Dweller said, bowing again. 'We are blessed for this hospitality.' 

            'As we are blessed with your bravery. Aradraen, please, stay here with us, I would like to speak with you. The rest may leave, if they choose to do so.' Nimril said, her sharp eyes noticing Terry's eyes flicker from the edge of the platform, back to her. They all bowed in their own fashion and left, Froin doing a stiff bow herself, and Relnik lowering his head lower than he had before. While they descended the stairs, Ondril could see a rather distraught look in Teredon's eyes. The proud man tried to conceal it, but it was still plain on his face. Ondril could not figure out what was wrong, for unlike Galadriel, Nimril had not spoken to him in his mind. He had been greatly settled by this, but the look in Teredon's eyes broke his settlement. Suddenly he could feel the power of the Stone again, and he almost grew weary. 

            Dweller returned hours later, and stood in the middle of the group. 

            'We will leave in two weeks time, which should be enough to rest up and regain strength. At the end of the two weeks, we shall then travel through the mines, to the end of the mountains that end at the edge of the forest, so we will no longer have to travel through the dangers it has. I suggest you use the time we have here wisely and sleep well, it might be the last comfort we have for a great deal of time.' She said, and they all nodded, already feeling rested enough. 

            'If I weren't so small, I'd say I was ready to go against the very armies of Mordor!' Param said, unsheathing his sword and pretending to fight with an orc. 

            'Do not speak of such things, Param!' Ondril said, remember that the hobbit had previously done so. 'I hope it does not come to that!' 

            'Frodo...' a voice spoke to Ondril in his sleep, and he moaned. Before him he could see the Lady Galadriel, clad in white, golden hair blowing behind her. 'Frodo...' she said again, and he jerked awake, the dream vanishing. He looked around frantically, sweat forming on his brow, and when he did not hear another voice, he lay his head back down on his pillow, but when he did so, he could hear the voice again. 'Ondril... I would like to have a word with you... meet me by the fountain...'

            'Who are you?' he asked, and looked around himself. 

            'You know who I am.' The voice said, and said no more. Ondril stood up wearily; legs still stiff from sleep, and started down to the fountain. He dared not disobey the voice, for disembodied voices are not something to be ignored, as he had found out before. He made his way slowly down to the fountain, and found Nimril there, waiting for him. He hesitated, but continued when she beckoned him with her finger, when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw besides the fountain, a thing that could be mistaken for a birdbath, but he knew better. It was the Mirror of Galadriel. 

            'Ah, you remember it, don't you, Master Baggins? Yes, I do know who you used to be. Frodo Baggins, Ring Bearer. I would like to express my gratitude for your works, and no, you will not need look into the mirror, for you know your task. I have just called you here to warn you. 

History has a way of repeating itself, Frodo, it always has. The world had not learned from its mistakes, which is the curse of mortals. To them, Dwarves are quite near forgotten, as are elves. They do not fully remember the horrors that had begotten them before this age; therefore they can not prevent it. There are some of your kind that seem rather home-sick, it might be a good idea to send them back.' She said, and Ondril shook his head. 

            'No, Brom would never leave my side, and Param and Terry... do not remember who they are. It would be too dangerous to send them back, we would risk having them find out too soon.' 

            'What do you care more for? The good of your home, or the well-being of two hobbits?' Nimril asked. She said it almost in a challenging way, and Ondril started to feel uncomfortable. He shifted his weight and crossed his arms. 

            'I know what I would prefer, but I also know what needs to be done. If they were not meant to come Relnohen would have sent them back home to get everyone ready for what ever was going to happen.' Ondril said, and Nimril raised a perfect, slender eyebrow. 

            'You are wise beyond your years, Master Baggins.' She said, and nodded. 'And have much more experience than you look to have. You may be able to use that quite to your advantage, if you do things correctly. But, as with you, looks can be deceiving, and we would not want the fate of Middle-earth to fall into the wrong hands.' She said, with such a tone that sent shivers down Ondril's spine. He was nearly expecting her to ask for the Stone next, but as if reading his thoughts, she smiled. 'Do not worry, the Stone does not tempt elvish-kind. Though... powerful, it is not appealing to us. Take heed of my words, though, to others it is very appealing, so you must keep it secret, except to those of whom you fully trust.' She said, and he grasped it firmly in his hand. 'You are a very strong hobbit, indeed. Not all beings could carry such heavy burdens twice.' She said, a twinkle in her eye, and he nodded; though still not smiling, and bowed, leaving. He went back to his spot under the tree and when he was about to drift back into sleep, he could hear the sound of heavy boots walking through the foliage. He looked up and saw Teredon walking to the same place he had just been. 

            The meeting had unsettled him, for he knew what was to become of the Shire again, and he could hardly bare that coming to his homeland. 


	16. Farewell to Greenwood the Great

****

BWHAHAHA!!! A DAY FOR THIS CHAPTER! ONLY A DAY! Me ish so excited, and you are too, ne? Hehe! Ah, well, read, enjoy, and HAVE A COOKIE!! *throws readers and reviewers cookies* COOKIES FOR EVERYONE!! BWHAHAHAHAHAHAAA- AHA-AHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!!!

~Hoshiko

Farewell to Greenwood the Great

They stayed their two weeks after their meeting. Through out these two weeks, they would only meet for meals, becoming too enthralled in their own doings to talk together much. The hobbits had braved going through the Dwarven part of the mines, and Param and Terry would even go up to a Dwarf, ask his (or her) name, how old they were, and how much gold they had mined recently. The Dwarf normally told them all the information they asked, and would proudly show of a belt or necklace of jewels that they had created. The two hobbits would often oo and ah, then quickly say good-bye and go off to the next interesting dwarf they saw. It was their way of saying 'hello, we've never seen this many dwarves before, how much richer are you than the last one we asked?' They only stopped when Froin got them by the ears and dragged them off to another part of the Mines. 

'Do not ask so many questions!' she said; slightly scoding, though she was smiling. 'They will get suspicious of robberies!' She then set them off, and they smiled contently at each other. She shook her head and chuckled to herself, looking at the axes in a cart. 'I am in need of a better axe… there is a dreadful notch from the last battle.' she said to herself, and browsed through them. The cart owner kept a sharp eye on her, and every time she looked up, she smiled at him. It wasn't that he did not trust her, but a Dwarf is very protective of his treasures. She eventually picked a silver-coated iron, double-sided axe, swung it around for a minute, and smiled contently at herself. It was the perfect size and weight. 

'I will take this one, how much does it cost?'

'Thirty silver pieces.' 

'Twenty-five.'

'Twenty-eight.'

'Twenty six and a copper piece.' 

'Deal.' He said, and she handed him the money. She had hoped they would find a good mine some where, and had brought her money sack. Looking at it more closely, she found it had been made in the Iron Hills, and had a fine oak handle. Set in the handle was a frosty-white jewel, which complemented the silver plating nicely, and she smiled at herself. It was a fine axe. She put it in her belt, and went on her way. 

Relnik and Dweller used most of their times to stay in the Elven half of the mines, Relnik spending hours in the canopy of the trees, speaking with other elves. It had been a long while sense he could freely speak Sindarin, except with Dweller, but she rarely did so around the others. He was still entranced by the fact that it was possible that there was a forest under a mountain, and he would spend his days looking at the roots and digging through the soil with the toe of his boot, trying to see how low it went. He never reached the stone floor, though, so he would stop almost immediately, lest someone see him. 

Dweller spent much of her time with Ondril and Brom, who also tended to stay in the elvish side. She was getting increasingly worried about Ondril, even though he would sleep and eat fine here. She knew what had happened to the Ring Bearer of the First Fellowship about this time of the journey, and she tried to make sure he was not going to that extent as long as he was in her care. He showed no signs of it, though, so she left him to do his own things, going herself to the Dwarvish side of the mines. 

Teredon, on the other hand, would distance himself from Ondril, keeping his eyes away from the hobbit, and would not speak to him. He had done this slightly before, but this is the most Ondril had seen him do it. The Baggins could not think of why he was doing so, either, and all he knew was that the Gondorian started after Ondril had seen him sneak off in the night. The man was proud, yes, but he would also show a great deal of pain. He tried not to show it, and normally succeeded, but something about this place was more unsettling to him than the others. 

They spent the two weeks in this fashion, and when it was time to go, Dweller announced it the night before. 

'We will leave tomorrow morning, but before we do so, the Lord and Lady would like a word with us.' She said, and they all slept that night. The thought of going back out in the wild frightened Ondril quite a bit and the next morning he awoke slightly pale. Brom looked at him worriedly, and offered him a plate of food. 

'It's all right, Mr. Frodo.' He said quietly, so the others couldn't hear him, 'We'll be safe for two more days, it'll take that long to go through the mines on the ferry.' Dweller had told them that they would be traveling on the underwater stream, being ferried by the elves to the doors of the edge of the mountain. Ondril took the plate, smiling weakly, eating only half the food. Brom shook his head, and took the plate back when he was finished. He had started not eating again. 

When they were done with breakfast, they cleaned up their camp, packed all their things, and followed Dweller to the edge of the river that flowed through this part of the mines. There the Lord and Lady of the wood, along with eight other elves met them. All of them were fair and tall, wearing light colors. 

'In honour of times passed, we would like to present you all with gifts.' Calalim said, and motioned them all in front of him. The eight other elves stepped forward, and put on all their shoulders gray-green cloaks of strong elvish material. 'I first would like to give these, made of the same material given to those of the original Fellowship. It saved them from the biting chill of the wind and rain, and from other things.' He finished, and Nimril stepped forward, going to the first in line, Dweller. 

'Aradraen of the Dunedain. It seems you are appointed the new leader.' She said in Sindarin, and Aradraen bowed. 'Be careful, for foes are not far behind, and your future lies ahead. You know of your path, and you know what you must become. Do not let a hardened heart and mistrust in your fellow men take you away from your destiny.' She said, and Aradraen looked down. 'Your bravery and skills in combat and leadership are unquestionable, so there is no thought in my mind against giving you this.' She said, and put in front of the young Dunedain a sword, shimmering in the light. 

'The Sword that was Lost…' Aradraen breathed, and Nimril nodded. 

'Yes, it has been a long time sense it has been put to use. It traveled to Rivendell with your mother, and your father gave it to us when she died. He knew this time would come, weather it was to his liking or not, so he sent it to us, saying that he wanted you to have it when you were ready. I believe you are ready.' She said, and presented the sword to her. Nimril was right, the sword, whose ancient name was Elendil, had been lost to the country of Gondor for many years. It was because Aradraen's mother had brought it with her when she was forced into exile, and it had stayed in Rivendell, then Greenwood after her death. It was a great surprise to Aradraen that it still existed. Nimril then went to the next person, who was Relnik. 

'Do you know what Lady Galadriel gave to Legolas of Mirkwood when he was in the same position?' she asked him, and he bowed. 

'Yes I do, Milady. She gave him the finest bow that a the Lorien elves could make.' 

'You are very correct.' She said with a smile, and put in his hands a bow. 'So shall I do for you. This bow was saved from the depths of Lothlorien, and it is the finest that we have found. It has been preserved to perfect condition, and I give it, now, to you.' She said, and he looked at it with awe. 

'I am not worthy, thank you Milady.' He said with the deepest bow he could muster. She smiled even more brightly, and moved on to the next person, Froin. 

'I must say,' she said, though her voice lost none of its brightness, 'I was at a loss as what to give to you. For though we live side-by-side with the dwarves, their desires still seem to be a mystery to us.' She said, and Froin shrugged. 

'Ah, well Milady, I have bought what I wanted,' she patted her new axe, 'and your hospitality, kindness, and location was all the gift I needed. It was enough.' She said, and bowed. 

'But we cannot set you off with out anything.' Nimril said, and from around her neck she took off a necklace, made of Mithril, set with an Ice blue stone. The elves called it their Star-stone, and it was the rarest in the world. Froin took one look at it and shook her head. 

'Oh, no, ma'am.'

'Yes, it is the sign of the unity that exists amongst us here in Greenwood Mountains.' She said, and put it in Froin's palm. 

'I do not know if I'm fit to wear it. Even though my beauty _is_ famous,' she said, stroking her beard and Nimril laughed at the joke, 'yours is far more superior. Thank you.' She said with a smile, and bowed low. 

'And for you,' Nimril said, going to Teredon, 'your gift, along with two others comes also from Rivendell. I believe it has been missing it's home for a great deal of time.' She said, and pulled from her robes a great horn tipped with silver. His eyes widen like saucers as he took the horn from her hand. 

'The Horn of Gondor…' he said, in as much awe as Aradraen had when she was given her sword. 'How is it possible? It was sent off with Boromir over the waterfall!' he said, and she smiled. 

'In the War of the Ring, Lord Relnohen was a wanderer, searching for Rivendell. One day, while getting a drink of water from a stream, he found this horn, broken in two, but luckily both halves were in tact. It seemed to have washed up on shore, and from what he did not know. When he arrived in Imladris, Lord Elrond had already left, but his son's still resided there. They recognized it immediately as it's true identity. Too far from where he found it, he put it in the spot that once held Elendil, starting his shrine to the great warrior Boromir, and eventually, the War itself. He sent it here when he learned that you were going to be an accompaniment on the journey, and I had it fixed.' She said, and as he inspected it, he saw that a strip of silver, melted into the cracks that had fallen to it had fixed it. He bowed low, grasping it tightly in his hand. 

'I thank you, dearly, Milady, may the sun always shine under the mountains.' He said, and she nodded approvingly. 

'For years Lord Relnohen has awaited the time for these to find proper owners.' She said, and brought out two knives, giving them to Terry and Param. 'I believe you know that the swords you carry were once carried by Pippin and Merry, and you know how they came into Imladris.' She said, glancing at Aradraen, 'and so were these. They have seen many battles, and have come in handy to them many a time when they were in use. I give them to you now.' She said, and they bowed. Param took his partially out of its sheath, looking at it in sad wonder. 

'And I have seen you looking at the trees, and how they grew so well underground.' She said to Brom, who looked up shyly. His face was rather red, even through her blue glow. 

'Y-yes, I have, Milady.' He said, and she smiled. 

'And do you know what Samwise the Brave was given on his departure from Lorien?' she asked, and a look in her eyes told him she knew who he was. 

'Yes I do, ma'am. If I remember rightly, she gave him the finest elven rope and a box of Lorien soil from her beautiful garden.' He said, and she nodded. 

'And the same I give to you, Mr. Gardener,' she said, placing in his hands rope and a box, filled with soil. 'It is the secret of our forest here, and how it grows under such odd conditions. Use it well.' She said, and he went red all the way to his ears, and mumbled something hidden from the rest, though she seemed to know and she smiled. 

'Now, the Stone Bearer.' She said, turning to Ondril. 'I have only this.' She pulled out a phial, but this time it did not appear empty. Instead, it was filled with a crystal clear liquid, that looked like water. 'It is not, though,' She said, reading his thoughts, 'it is a liquid with many uses. You may find these uses as you go on your way, but I will not tell them to you now. You will discover them when needed.' Now Calalim stepped next to his wife and motioned towards the ferries that were waiting for them. 

'We have packed for you our waybread, for it helped Frodo and Sam along their journey when all food sources were gone. We hope it will help you as it helped them.' He said, and all bowed. 

'May your journey take you to friendlier paths than the ones that had been laid out for the others. I bid you fond farewell from Greenwood, and a glad return. Good bye!' Nimril said, and they turned, stepping onto the ferries and sailing down the river. They passed through the opening of the stone wall, and out into the middle of the mines. Here the actual mining occurred, and on each side there were dwarves mining precious metals and gems. 

They passed through this continually for the next two days, until they could see an end to the river, or rather, a bend in the river. Before this bend, the elves steered the ferries back on shore, stopping in front of a large door. 

'This door will lead you out of the forest, and on your way. The _lembas_ have been put in your packs already, and if you have everything, you are set to leave.' The elf, who happened to be the same one who had lead them through the mines to the four Lords of the Mountain, said and put two hands on the door. It opened immediately, and he bowed his head, and waited until they had all stepped through to close the door. 

The immediate burst of sunlight seemed to blind them all as they walked through to a field, and it took a minute for their eyes to adjust. 

'I would much prefer it if it was just as dim out here as in there.' Terry muttered to himself, and Relnik shook his head. 

'No, you do not, for if it was, it would mean war would be coming soon.' He said and Terry nodded grimly, looking at the knife in its sheath. 

'We will follow the edge of Mirkwood until we get to the southern end of it. From there we will go west, following the Anduin, and down to Mordor.' She said, and Ondril's face went paler. 

'Mordor!' Brom muttered to himself, 'last place we want to go, and it is the first place we're headed!' 


	17. A Fellowship no More

****

This, my friends, is the end to Part One. I will do this as Tolkien did with his masterpiece. You know what I'm talking about. ;) Part One will be named Quest of the Fellowship. A bit late for this title? Probably. Do I honestly care? Nope! Bai for now!

~Hoshiko

A Fellowship no More

They traveled along the edge of Mirkwood for two weeks, and eventually the green fields turned into brown, lifeless dirt. 

'The Brown Lands.' Relnik said, looking out into the dreary darkness. 'Oh, how I wish I was back under the mountains of Greenwood!' He said, and they continued on their way. The hobbits, by now, were trudging, for though there was no snow on the ground, it was frightfully cold, and it rubbed even their tough hobbit-feet raw. 

'Who said hobbits shouldn't wear shoes?' Param asked, rubbing his foot one night. 'Even this is too much for me!' he said, and lay down to sleep. Relnik and Froin had offered to keep watch that night, and while they sat in the quiet, Param's loud snores ringing through the darkness, Relnik turned to Froin. 

'What did the Lady Nimril give to you?' he asked, and Froin grasped the necklace that was around her neck. 

'She gave me her Star-stone, as a sign of unity between Elves and Dwarves.' Froin answered quietly, and Relnik nodded. The time in Greenwood seemed to have changed their points of view on each other. It was easy to see another friendship was forming between the two, both putting aside their differences. Except from Greenwood, this was a rare thing among the two races still. Those not immediately effected by Gimli and Legolas never seemed to know that connection, and these two had never been immediately effected by it. They could at least sit next to each other with out bickering of something. 

The night remained quiet, until there was a loud sound in the night, like an animal call. 

'What is that?' Froin asked quickly, hopping to her feet and getting out her new axe. Relnik looked around with his elvish eyes and could see five pairs of green, glittering eyes in the dark. 

'Wargs!' he said, and loaded his bow. 'Wake the others, quickly!' he cried, and shot into the dark. He hit something, and it screeched in pain. 

'What's going on?' Terry asked sleepily from the middle of the group. 

'Attack!' Froin cried, and they all seemed to awake immediately, pulling out their swords. 

'What are they?' Dweller asked, pulling out Elendil. 

'Wargs, and possibly something else!' Relnik answered, right before an arrow whizzed passed his head. He immediately shot where it had come from and hit something, it screeched also. 'Excuse me, I was wrong, definitely something else.' He corrected himself, and though the night was dark, the light of the moon made the outlines of a dozen or more orcs riding wargs apparent. Before anyone had any time to react, an orc kicked his warg in the side, and it jumped in the middle of the group, followed by all the others. 

'Elendil!' Aradraen cried, and immediately started slaying orcs. The hobbits cried out, too, and did the best they could. Before they knew it, two wargs, one in front, and one in back surrounded Param and Terry. They immediately faced a different warg, and swung rather wildly with their swords, cutting the beasts' throats. 

'Well, that was lucky!' Param said before another one jumped at him, and he stabbed it in the middle of the face. 

'I think we might actually be getting the hang of this, Par!' Terry said before he picked up a rock and flung it at an orc's head, hitting it hard. The thing fell and Terry smiled at his own throwing skills. 

Brom and Ondril, however, were having a worse time. Five orcs and wargs surrounded them, not particularly to their liking. A warg smiled winningly at its newfound meal, but Brom sliced its nose off. As it reeled back in pain he sliced his throat with one swift movement and it fell to the ground.

'That'll teach you to snarl at Mr. Ondril!' Brom said, as Ondril himself slew another offending creature. They were doing well with it, until one orc knocked the sword out of Brom's hand, and nearly took his head off. 

'Brom!' Ondril cried, and the orc turned on him. It was about to throw a knife at him when it fell off its warg, dead. Froin came over and pulled her axe out of it's neck, smiling. 

'This is a good axe!' she roared, laughing, and turned around slaying many others. Brom shook his head and stood up, getting his sword after Ondril came over to him. 

'I'm all right, Mr. Ondril!' he said, though he staggered when he stood. 

'Brom, you're going to kill yourself!'

'Better me than you, if you get my meaning.' Brom said, and turned to fight another, but found that there were no more to fight, for they were all on the ground, dead. There had been less than they had seen, and Dweller looked around the camp. 

'It is not safe here, they have found us.' She said, panting. 'Get your things, we must flee from here, now!' she cried, and they all did so quickly. When they were done, she pointed south, and they followed her, going at the quickest pace they had for a good, long time. They continued in this fashion until the break of day, when Relnik could see no sign of any more orcs, and everyone collapsed on the ground, too tired to go on. Everyone fell asleep immediately, though Relnik stayed awake to keep watch. 

They slept through out the day and night, and when they were all awake they set out again. Walking at a normal speed now, they reached the North Undeep, which was deeper than it had been previously, and stopped to camp. 

'Rest up, I am not sure how we will cross yet.' She said, and they made the camp. Here there were many ruins of a time long ago, when the Numenorians still had rule over the land.

'We should go.' Relnik said, looking into the forest. 'Something lingers in the woods.' 

'No, we can not.' Dweller said, walking to her half brother, putting her hand on his shoulder. 'The hobbits need their rest, we need to stop.'

'Where are we going after this?' Param asked, and Dweller sat by the fire. 

'We either have the option of going over to the Wold and traveling south, over the lands of Rohan, or staying on this side, and go over the Emyn Muil. It is up to the Stone Bearer, Ondril.' Ondril looked up at the faces of his comrades, seeing them all tired and weather-beaten. 

'I… need time to think of It.' he said, and stood. It was plain to see the Stone was taking its toll on the hobbit, and Brom looked worriedly at his master. 

'Mr. Ondril…'

'Yes, I will need time to think of it alone.' Ondril said, and walked off into the forest himself. He seemed to be the only one to notice that Teredon was not there with them, though the man's items were. 

'He doesn't eat.' Brom muttered to himself, and fed a few more faggots to the fire. 

Ondril walked through the forest, trying to find the man of Gondor that had walked off by himself. He found him a little while later, sitting by himself and staring straight in front of him. When the hobbit came up to him he jumped slightly. 

'Are you sure you dare trust me with such an item?' Teredon asked, and Ondril sighed. 'If you do, you are the only one.' 

'That is what has been bothering you?' 

'No one seems to understand that I am not Boromir.' He looked at Ondril with a fire in his eyes that did remind him of the long-dead man. 'Yet have I asked for the Stone? No! I could have many times, yes, but I did not.' He said, and Ondril opened his hand, and in his little palm laid the stone. 

'Would you take it if I offered it?' Ondril asked, and the color drained from Teredon's face. His look changed, though, and in his mind he could hear a voice calling _Teredon… Teredon… the true… King!_

'I-I… I would not know if I would deny it…' Teredon said, hand outstretched towards the stone. Ondril looked on, fearing what he had just done. 'It is… precious…' Teredon muttered, hand inches away from the stone. His eyes trailed up to Ondril's, though, and his closed the hobbit's hand over the stone. 'But I will not accept it. It was appointed to you, only you could do It.' he said, and Ondril nodded. 

'You are truly a valiant man.' Ondril said, and placed it back in his pocket. 'Not many would deny it.' 

'As I have said before, I am not Boromir.' Teredon said, and turned back towards the group. 'Are you not coming?' 

'No, I came out here to be alone. Go back, I will be fine.' Ondril said, and Teredon nodded, color coming back into his face. He walked back to the camp, leaving Ondril to think of his own things. When he arrived at the camp, Dweller looked at him, becoming suspicious of his face. In reality he was pleased that he did not take the Stone, but she interpreted it differently. 

'What have you done?' She asked, and he looked at her confused. 

'I did nothing. I was just having a conversation with Ondril.' Teredon said, but she refused to believe him. 'I left him alone to think.'

'Did you?' Dweller asked. Her trust in him had been diminished once he had confronted her that one night. The fact that he had seemed very shifty from mistrust in himself had led her to believe he was planning something. 

'Yes I did.' He said, surprised at her mistrust. 

'Aradraen!' Relnik said, appalled at his younger sister's actions and tone. 'I do not think he would have harmed him!'

'Have you not seen the shiftiness in his eye?' Aradraen barked back in Sindarin, 'I do not trust him, for all we know he could be doing the same as Boromir!' She said, and stood, hurrying off into the place Teredon had just come. Relnik shook her head and Froin pat Teredon on his back. 

'It's all right, we've all been on edge lately.' Froin said, but Teredon stared into the fire. 

'She's going off into the wrong part of the forest…' Teredon said, and something caught Relnik's eye. 

'There is something out there…' he said, before a loud shriek pierced the air. 

'Mr. Ondril's off by himself!' Brom cried, running off into the forest. Froin practically picked up the other two hobbits and set them on their feet. 

'Grab you packs, and go hide, now!' she said, and the two obeyed. They ran to the forest, and after a bit of running, Terry found a hollowed-out log. 

'Param! In here, quickly!' He said, and practically shoved his older cousin inside the log. The two hid, hardly breathing. 

'Where are the others?' Param asked, and Terry shook his head as much as he could.

'I don't know, but shush!' he said, and Param kept quiet, for fear that they would be discovered. 

Back at the camp, however, Teredon looked around frantically, trying to remember which way Ondril had gone. 

'Do not worry about Ondril, Aradraen will keep a good eye on him, it is our skins we must worry about!' Relnik said, just as orcs began to jump through the foliage. The three started fighting immediately, Froin chopping off a few orc-necks, Relnik shooting many with his bow, and Teredon stabbing many in the stomach, eventually working their way away from the campsite. 

Aradraen searched around for the small hobbit, he could not have gotten far. She was relieved when she saw him sitting on top an old ruin, thinking. 

'Are you all right?' she asked, and he jumped about a foot in the air. 

'What? O-oh, yes, I'm fine.' He said, and she stood next to him. 'I just had a strange experience, that's all.' 

'I knew it! Did Teredon hurt you at all, did he do as Boromir, did he try to take the Stone?' She said quickly, and he looked up in surprise. 

'No! No, nothing of the sort!' he said, stopping her. 'He was right, no one had trust in him, not even you! I offered him the Stone, and he was tempted, but he denied. He let me go and think by myself.' Ondril said, and Aradraen saw the truth in his eyes. 

'He spoke the truth…'

'Yes, he is a brave and noble man.' Ondril said, and she looked down thoughtfully. Could she have been wrong? Obviously she had been wrong. He had been right, she had no respect for her own race, and she had let that cloud her judgement of him. The fact that there had been weak men had made her perception of him be of the same weaknesses. This train of thought was broken, though, for she could see Sting in its sheath glow blue. 

'Orcs!' she said, and Ondril jumped up, pulling out his sword. 'Go, quickly, they are near.'

'But the other's-'

'Go! We must let you go, I will fight them off.' She said, and turned, long braid swinging behind her. Ondril ran the other way, back near the camp. The orcs came quickly, hundreds of them, and she fought them off quickly, killing them one by one. None seemed to see that Ondril had run off the other way, and she was left to fight alone, until Relnik and Froin joined her. Together they were a good team, and no orcs stood a chance. If one orc were to come from behind Relnik so he did not see, Froin threw her sword into its back. If one archer aimed an arrow at Aradraen, Relnik would shoot it before it had a chance. Before long they had all fallen, and through the quiet they could hear a strong, proud, and loud sound. 

'What is that?' Froin asked, breathing hard.

'The horn of Gondor, Teredon is in trouble!' Aradraen cried, and they all raced off to the source of the sound. 

Brom ran through the forest of the North Undeep, calling out frantically. 'Frodo, Mr. Frodo, where are you?' he screamed, unable to keep from calling his master his previous name. He ran, heart racing, until in the other part of the forest he could see the small figure of his master, running south. When he saw him he ran faster, but Ondril acted as if he did not hear. 'Frodo, wait along, now, I'm not that fast!' 

'Samwise, let me go alone this time!' Brom stopped dead in his tracks, as did Ondril.

'What?' 

'I want to go alone!' He said, and when he turned Brom could see tears streaming down his face. 'I don't want you to go through that again!' 

'Weather you want to hear it or not, you went through more than I did!' Brom said, and Ondril turned on his heals, walking again. 'You let me go with you, or-or…' he looked around frantically, and saw next to him the streaming Anduin. 'Or I'll go into the river!' he said, and Ondril stopped again. 'You know what happened last time!' 

'Brom, no!' Ondril cried, but Brom took no heed to his word. He jumped into the water and swam as well as he could, until he could not touch the bottom any longer. He started to sink. 'SAMWISE!' Ondril screamed, and ran in after Brom. He ran out to the spot in the water that Brom had gone, and he fished frantically for his friend. He could see bubbles where Brom was, and he grabbed in that direction, getting hold of his coat. He pulled with all his strength, and pulled his sputtering companion out from the water. 

'Are you mad, my good lad? You could have been killed!' Ondril cried, and Brom shook his head once a large amount of water left his body.

'Don't you see, Ondril? I don't care if I died! You can't make it alone, you need someone! No one could make it alone, I'm never going to leave you to do it with out me!' he said, he now was crying. 

'Oh, Sam!' Ondril cried, tears coming again to his eyes as well as Brom's as he clung onto his friend. 'Though I'd rather you not, I'm so glad you have, you haven't a clue! Come along, get your pack, I have mine, we cannot stay here much longer.' He said, and helped Brom up. They walked off down the Anduin getting Brom's pack at the campsite. Ondril clapped his friend on the shoulder.

'We will go, and may he others find a safer road! Dweller will look after them. I don't suppose we shall see them again.'

'You've said that once before Ondril, and I'll give you the same answer. Yet we may, Mr. Frodo. We may,' said Brom. 


	18. The Three Hunters Again

**The beginning to Part Two, The World's of old United. Seems odd for a LOTR title, but hey, work with me, I'm 14! Cut me a lil bit a slack, eh? I am not Tolkien… in any way. =P LOL, bai!**

**~Hoshiko**

The Three Hunters Again

Param and Terry stayed in their log, hardly breathing. Once and a while, one would shift because of something poking into him, and the other would scold him. They stayed in the log, for what seemed, forever, until they could hear rumblings of stampeding feet. Their hearts stopped, and they kept still as they saw orc-feet trampling past them. 

            Now, this log they had chosen to hide in was ill chosen, for it was not set correctly into the ground. With every tremor, it seemed to loosen itself more and more, until it finally started to roll down the hill. The two hobbits with in cried out as it rolled, and an orc stopped some of his comrades. 

'The halflings!' it said in a low voice, 'They are this way, come along!' he said, and followed after the log, about ten behind him. 

The log stopped against the tree with a thug, and the two dazed hobbits fell out either end. 

'Oh….' Param said, gripping his head with his hands. 'That was painful…' he said, but Terry was not as dizzy, and when he saw what was running at them, he jumped up and ran over to his cousin. 

'Come along, Par! We might know something more painful than that in a minute!' he said, and tugged his cousin to his feet. Param saw the on-coming orcs and quickly followed Terry, running the other way. To their dismay, though, they encountered a rather large trench, with a river running at the bottom. They stopped, as they were about to fall over into it. They turned around in fear to face their other threat, and picked up stones, starting to hurl them at the offending creatures. 

'Hit him harder, Terry!' Param cried, but he missed one of the orcs, and it came straight at them. Luckily enough, they looked at each other, then over the side, and jumped to the side. The plan worked, and the Orc fell over the edge, grabbing onto the side. In unison they each stomped on his fingers and he fell down, breaking his neck on the bottom of the trench. They smiled at themselves, but there was another behind them, ready to strike. It did not get a chance to, though, for it was hit in the side of the neck with a knife. They both looked to see where the knife came from, and saw Teredon racing towards the hobbits, sword in hand. 

'Teredon!' Terry cried as the warrior started to attack the orcs, killing the first few at hand. The two hobbits cheered on wildly, throwing more rocks at other orcs. He was starting to be over-powered, though, and he took out his new horn, blowing on it a loud, low note. The first one it had done for an age of Middle-earth. The hobbits then took out their swords and started to slice wildly, and with this help, he killed the rest off quickly, and when he had finished, he looked at the halflings and ran over to them. 

'Are you all right?' He asked, panting. This had been the most fighting he had seen for a great while. 

'Yes, we are fine, how are you?' Param asked, and through the forest they could hear another sound, rather close to a bark. He looked to it, and in horror pointed to the new group of orcs, running at them. 'Teredon!' He screamed, but it was too late. One of the orcs took out his knife, aimed, and hit Teredon in the arm. From the strength and pain of the attack, Teredon stepped back, missing the ground and falling over the edge of the trench, holding on with his good hand. Param and Terry watched in horror, and tried to help him up, but couldn't because the orcs grabbed them, carrying them off the other way. 

'Param, Terry!' Teredon cried, before his one arm failed him, and he fell down into the trench and into the river. 

Aradraen, Froin, and Relnik rushed to the sound of the horn, but when they found a trench there, they had to stop. They had fallen into a dead end, and there was no where else it could have come from. 

'Where could they have gone?' Froin asked, looking over the edge. 

'I… I do not know…' The Ranger said, looking at the ground. She walked up the hill, and found tracks. 'It seems the hobbits hid in the log… it rolled down the hill, and they fell out of the ends... they saw orcs coming and ran over here... running down to the trench… they stopped, turned, and then went back up… it seems as if they started fighting, when from over here someone larger came, but it I not an orc or hobbit foot, but a man's!' she said, and Froin nodded her head. 

'That would be where he was running from.' She said, and Relnik agreed. 

'Then the fighting ended… he walked over to the hobbits, and… they stopped for a minute, then… these are difficult to read… he faltered and stepped over the edge… he held on for a long as he could and then… Relnik, use your eyes and see if you can see Teredon's body!' she said quickly, and Relnik scanned the area. He saw nothing.

'There is no sign of him.' Relnik said sadly, and looked at Aradraen. She was still looking at the ground. 

'And then it was as I had feared… the hobbits were taken.' She said, and Froin nodded. 

'Then we must go to camp and see if Ondril and Brom are still there. Hopefully they escaped.' She said, and they made their way back to camp. When they arrived they saw that Brom's pack had gone, and there were light hobbit tracks in the sand. 

'They have gone off themselves.' Relnik said, and looked around. 'You are our councilor, what will we do?' 

'We cannot follow them forever, they were destined to go off by themselves.' Aradraen said, and Relnik nodded. 

'So it will always be destined,' Froin said, putting her pack on and going over to the other two. 'The Fellowship will always fail.' 

'In the defense of the last and current, I will state that the Fellowship has never failed. As long as it is remembered and honored, it will live on forever.' She said, and the other two nodded. 'Now, we would be honoring nothing if we left Param and Terry alone with the orcs. They will need rescuing, for I doubt that there are anymore Ents in the woods to help save them.' She said, and smirked, 'let's go hunt some orc.' 

'You took the words out of my mouth.' Relnik said, and they started running towards the trench. When they came back to the spot they stopped and bowed their heads, paying respects to Teredon. After a moment of silence, the sound of a deep singing voice could be heard. It was Froin. 

From the west, the birds carry messages 

_Sadly now they sing, telling stories_

_White towers of Gondor look to them and ask_

_Where is our Great Warrior? They say_

_Where is Teredon, son of Theredorn? Where is Teredon the Great?_

Then Relnik sang:

_We have just come from the west, my friends_

_The birds say with heavy hearts_

_We have just come, and we are sorry to say_

_That he has fallen valiantly_

_He has fallen, fighting for Gondor and all of Middle-earth_

Finally Aradraen sang: 

_No longer will he walk through your halls_

_No longer will he sing_

_For he has fallen valiantly far away from home_

_We wish you thought of him well_

_Alas, for all of you he perished, for all of you he fell_

They left the place with heavy hearts, knowing that they must keep going, if they hoped at all for the sake of Param and Terry. After walking slowly for a while they picked up pace, and eventually went to running. 

'We will run until we can run no longer, for we must reach the hobbits.' Aradraen said as she ran. 'If we catch them, I pity them, for they will be shown no mercy. My only hope would be that they will not kill the two once the find out that they do not have the Stone.' 

'Then it is in our best interest to not stop. It is fine, though, for the endurance of a dwarf is nothing to shake a stick at!' she said, and Relnik nodded. 

'Where would they be heading to?' Relnik asked as he ran, following Aradraen. 

'The orcs were of Uruk-hai kind, but I was never told by the Lord or Lady of the Wood that there was such place like the ancient Isengaurd.' Aradraen answered back, throwing it over her shoulder. 'They would take him to Mordor, where the head of their order is!'

'To Mordor, then!' Froin cried, and did her best to run with her companions. It was rather difficult for her, because of her shorter legs. They ran on from dusk through night to dawn, and they had made it to the middle off the North and South Undeep. The tracks had led them to the river, and it seemed they had simply trampled into it. 

'This is not possible… they simply walked into the water!' Aradraen said, looking at the tracks again. 'Surely, they could not, for it is at least ten feet deep and the hobbits would have drowned!' she said, and they pondered this, until something in the bushes caught Relnik's eye. 

'There is something over yonder!' he said, and rushed over. What he saw made him bow his head. 'There are a pile of bodies here, and they look like fishers.' He said, and Aradraen saw it was so. 

'The orcs must have attacked them for their boats, then left the bodies. These creatures have killed more good lives than they deserve to know. I mourn for the children who will not see their father tonight.' She said, and looked around. She saw one more boat that was left over, and she was surprised that the orcs had not taken it, also. 

'Well, they are a careless bunch, they most likely did not see it.' Froin said, reading Aradraen's puzzlement. She agreed and they took the boat, crossing the river and landing on the other side, into the lands of Rohan. 


	19. Battles in Rohan

**Another chapter, I'm on another role! When I get outa a slump, I get outa a slump, eh? Haha. Lookie dat! Lolz, well, on to the next chapter, Good night!**

**~Hoshiko**

Battles in Rohan

'I must admit… these lands are strange to me.' Froin said while they stopped for a moment on the countryside. 'Where have we landed?'

'We are now in the country of Rohan. Sense the War of the Ring they have flourished rather well. They have a great supply of horses, and they have a worthy king.' Aradraen explained, and Froin nodded. 

'What house is in rule here?'

'That I can not tell you, for I do not know.'

 'Let us hope there is not another ruler along with this one this time.' She grumbled, and Aradraen looked to the ground. 

'Now is not the time to ponder that, for the orcs have not stopped, on with the hunt!' she cried, and sprinted off into woods, the other two following. They ran for another day with out stop or food and at the end of the day they came upon a trampled part of the ground. Here were scraps of food, and the grass seemed to be almost torn apart. 

'They laid here recently, the ground has been greatly unsettled.' Aradraen said, and Relnik nodded. 

'The fair grounds of Rohan have not seen this abuse for a great time.' Relnik said sadly. 'Which means they are new here. That is a good sign.' He said and the others nodded. 

'We have had no rest for… three days…' Froin breathed, leaning on a tree for support. 'Though the endurance of Dwarves is great, even the Uruk-hai had to rest!' she said, and Relnik nodded. 

'Yes, even I am extremely tired.' He said, and Aradraen sighed. 

'All right, we may rest, it would be safer to travel at night, any way.' She said, and Froin plopped down on the ground. 

'Thank you.' She said, and almost instantly fell asleep. Even Relnik laid himself down on the ground, and slept in the elvish fashion. They did so until night fell, for Aradraen refused to sleep, and she woke them. 

'Come along, now, we have rested more than I would have preferred. Onwards!' she cried, and sprinted off. The two taller ones took the lead, and by the start of the next day Froin was lagging behind quite a bit. 

'I am not built for long-distance running!' she said, and they came to a hill. While she stumbled up to them, Relnik looked across the fields. 'Can you see them?'

'Their feet have traveled here, yes, for the grasses have been trampled down.'

'How do we know that the hobbits are still living? They could have been killed and dumped in the brushes many miles past!' Froin said, it seemed her hope was fading. 

'Perhaps… they would have left something to show us they are still living.' Relnik offered, and Aradraen remembered what Pippin had done last time. 

'Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall…' she muttered, and looked down at their trail. 'They seemed to have stopped here for a brief moment… the signs are as Elessar had described… if they did anything close to- aha!' she cried, and practically jumped on a spot in the ground. Froin and Relnik had started to wonder if she had gone mad. She came up, however, with the brooch that held their elven cloaks together. 

'This is the proof we need. The last time that an elven brooch was dropped in Rohan was when Pippin desired to tell Elessar that he and Merry were still living. They are alive yet!' she said, and Froin nodded. 

'Yes, that is luck, and if it isn't call me a male!' she said and Relnik looked closely at the brooch. 

'We should take all luck that comes to us.' He said, and Aradraen nodded. 

'Yes, luck or no luck it is a blessing! Continue we must, for my hope is renewed!' she said, and started off again. Froin sighed, took a deep breath and started off again, following the two other beings. As she ran, she took out one of the lembas she had left and took a large bite out of it, eating as she ran. 

'I thank the Lady for these _lembas_, she knows not how much they help.' She said, and kept running, gaining some ground and catching up with the other two. They ran for the rest of the day, through out the night, and the next time they stopped to rest, it was early morning. 

'The sky… it looks angry…' Aradraen said, staring hard at it. 'Lest my eyes deceive me, there was a battle somewhere near here tonight. The signs are as they were an age ago… we are falling into the same fate!' she said, frustration in her voice. 

'Laurel, that would mean they are still living. Besides, I do not think fates would be exactly the same, for the herders of the trees have not been seen by anyone for thousands of years. They could very well be all right now, but what would happen to them after that? My hope is fading again, my sister…' he said and Froin nodded. 

'We cannot loose hope, though I see your point of view. We must keep going, it is their only hope.' She said, and they found that Aradraen had pressed her ear against the ground. 'Aradraen, my lass-'

'Sh! I must see how far they are.' She said, and she stayed for a great while. The other two did not move, for fear she would loose her patient, and she rose minutes later. 'They have not been here for more than a day.' She said, and looked to the south of them. 'Yet I do not hear their foot-step's either… there is only the sound of hooves… not more than five beasts, but hooves all the same. Come, we do not know to whom they belong.' She said, and they hurried off into some of the underbrush. Sure enough, there were a band of at least five horses.

The riders were clad in armor, and helmets, carrying a flag of a brown horse head. The background was of deep blue, and the flag was lined in golden cloth. On their armor was the coat of arms of the great house of Eorl. Under their helmets could clearly be seen dark strawberry-blonde hair and the each held a spear. They stopped and turned when Aradraen was about to call out to them. After a moment the trampling of more beasts could be heard, and quickly there came orcs riding wargs. The orcs out-numbered the horses two to one, and after a moment of standing off, one of the wargs jump at a horse and near killed it. This made the others go, and before the Three Hunter's eyes a battle broke out. 

'Should we help?' Relnik asked, and Froin growled. 

'Weather we should or not, I am!' she said, and jumped up from the underbrush, killing the nearest orc. Relnik quickly joined in, and Aradraen had not choice but to help. With the help of the Hunters the battle did not last long, and when it was over Froin was the last to kill a warg. 

'That'll teach you. Now- oh…' she said, and backed up into Relnik and Aradraen. The warriors of Rohan had them surrounded, spears ready to attack. One of the Riders looked at them and pointed his spear at them. 

'Who are you? What is your business in Rohan? Are you friend or foe?' He asked quickly, and Froin cleared her throat looking at the beasts she had just helped kill. 

'I am Aradraen of the Dunedain, the elf is Relnik, son of Relnohen, and the dwarf is Froin, daughter of Loin.' She explained, but the look on the man's face told them he did not believe them. 

'Dwarves and elves exist in children's tails only. They have disappeared since the third age, none have been seen in Rohan for thousands of years.' He said, and Froin nodded. 

'Oh, really. Than I am simply a short man, and he is simply a tall man. Well, if you thought that you would be terribly wrong, for I am a female.' She said, and he raised an eyebrow. 'Doesn't our dress tell you we are not of your race?' 

'The dwarves have recently receded back to their mining homes and the elves into their forests. They are real though, I promise you on my life.' She said, and a tone in her voice made his expression change. The tones of Aradraen were nothing to question.

'Maybe they have. I am sorry, but Rohan have recently been under terrible strain. The king is being controlled, if you will.' He said, and put his hand up, the spears being put down. 

'By his councilor?'

'No! By his very own son. They man has been spoiled all his life, and his father does everything to his interest. He is getting anything out of his father now, and his thoughts are of evil. The kingdom is falling apart.' The man said, and took off his helmet. 'I am Eothan, son of Eotarn. The king is my uncle, and I am tired of my cousin's meddling in his affairs. It is of little hope, now, for nothing can persuade my uncle out of it. It has gone on too long. Now, what was your business here?' 

'We are following a group of orcs, like the ones you were just in battle. They were Uruk-hai, and have captured friends of ours, hobbits, halflings. If I'm correct, they have not been seen in this country for a great time, either.' Aradraen said, and Eothan nodded. 

'You are correct, they have not, and I have not seen them. We killed a large group of orcs early this morning, but it was dark, and we could not judge if they were orc or not. As far as we know, there were none that were left alive.' 

'Are you sure? They are short lads, no taller than I, and they…' but she did not finish, because he just shook his head. 

'I am sorry.' He said, and Relnik bowed his head. 

'Where are they now?' he said, his voice clear and smooth. It was easy to tell he was not of mankind. 'What have you done with the ones you have killed?' 

'Their bodies have been burned, you are welcome to go search, but I am afraid you will find them dead. It is over in that direction.' He said, and the anger in Aradraen's face could clearly be seen. 

'We will go search, then. Come along.' She said, and they were about to leave when Eothan heaved a sigh. 

'I feel responsible…' he said quickly, and whistled. Two horses then came, one as black as night and the other brown as a chestnut. 'These are the horses of two of our men that were killed. They were the only ones, I am sorry I do not have three. Take them, for we are not in need of them.' He said and Aradraen bowed her head. 

'Thank you. We will keep them well.' She said, and Eothan nodded. 

'Yes, I apologize again. Ride on!' he cried, and the Riders of Rohan turn their horses, running off. Aradraen mounted the black horse, and Relnik his, but when he motioned for Froin to get on she backed up. 

'I will not!' she said, and he looked at her. 

'Why not?'

'A dwarf, riding a great horse like that? I would be thrown off, surely!' she said, and Relnik laughed. 

'Come along, Froin my friend, I will not let you fall.' He said, and she nodded. 

'I will walk.'

'You will fall behind, and have to do long-distance running.' Relnik said, and Froin thought of it for a minute. After a second she sighed. 

'Fine. I will ride.' She said, and with Relnik's help she mounted the horse, steadying herself with him. 

'If you grip too hard I will throw you off.' 

'Do not tell me that.' She said, and they started riding. She tensed quite a bit when they did, but she did not fall off. They made it to the pile of burning bodies, and they saw that it was true, they had killed nearly all the orcs. After inspecting the pile of orcs, Aradraen looked at the tracks.

'There are no bondage cut, no hobbit tracks, nothing!' she said, and from the pile Relnik pulled out a long-knife, like none an orc would carry. 

'Terry's knife from Greenwood…' Froin said, she and Relnik bowing their heads. Aradraen looked at it, fire in her eyes. In a fit of rage she kicked a helmet, and fell to her knee's screaming. 

'Curse on you!' She cried, beating the ground, 'Curse on you, AND ALL OF ORC-KIND!' Relnik went over and comforted his sister. 'We have failed them…' she said, and Froin shook her head. 

'There was nothing we could do.' She said, and Relnik nodded. 

'We must move on, now.'

'We fight for them…' Aradraen said, and stood. 'We will fight for them until our deaths!' She said, and mounted her horse. 'We will go to this king and his son, with persuasion, perhaps Rohan's rule will turn for the better.' 

'Where is the capital city?' Relnik asked after helping Froin onto the back of the horse.

'It is south west from here, and named Edoras.' 

'Not all names change.' Froin said, and Aradraen nodded, turning her horse. 

'No, not all names change with time.' She said, 'it is two day's ride from here, come along, I can not stand that pile of bodies any longer.' She said, and they rode off in the direction of the city of Rohan. 


	20. In the Hands of the UrukHai

**This chapter is short, I apologize. Certain things I wanted to happen will have to do so in other chapters. Something important does happen in this, though, be happy! Lolz! Bai bai!**

**~Hoshiko**

In the Hand of the Uruk-Hai 

Darkness. That was all that Param could see, but he could hear a sound. It started in quietly, but it grew quickly. Screaming, someone was screaming his name. Then he could see in front of him the hanging figure of Teredon. He quickly realized that it was Teredon who was screaming his name. Param reached out to him, but he was too late, and Teredon fell into darkness. 

            Param woke up with a start, a sharp pain in his head. He could not tell what had woke him up, though, the pain in his head, or the horrid stench. He looked around for a second; his vision blurred, and after a moment realized that he was being carried by an orc. He felt faint again, but the site of his friend Terry woke him again. 

'Terry!' he said, but Terry did not stir. 'Terry, wake up!' it did no use though. The orcs kept running, until the one that was carrying Param stopped running. 

'We've been running for six stinking days!' he growled at the leader, and Param acted as if he were still unconscious, though he listened. 'My leg's won't move any more.'

'All right, all right, stop your belly-aching!' the leader growled back, and put up his hand, the others stopped. 'Let's make camp, boys!' he cried, and Param and Terry were both dumped on the ground. When he was dropped Param let out an 'oof' and Terry groaned. 

'Ooh… my head…' he groaned, and an orc sat itself next to them. 

'Not a word out of both of you.' He snapped, 'or both your pretty little hands come off.' This was enough to make them both be quiet. They lay there, Param secretly trying to unbind his hands. He looked down and found that they had not taken their swords or knives, but with his hands he could not reach them. Unable to talk to Terry, nor unbind his hands, he let the inviting darkness take him, and he fell unconcious again. 

Again there was darkness, and again someone was calling his name, but it was not his name. There was Teredon again, but he was not hanging from the edge of a cliff. Instead there were three arrows sticking out of him, and he looked at Param with death in his eyes. 

'Pippin, I am sorry I have failed you.' He said, and as he died, he faded into darkness. 

Param awoke again, cold sweat running down his face. Terry was sitting next to him, putting his hands to his mouth. The orc that had been guarding them was eating with the others.

'Shush, Param, you're being too loud, they'll kill you!' he whispered, and Param squinted at him. 

'Merry?' he asked, and Terry shook his head. 

'Param, are you all right? I'm Terry, not Merry.' 

'No… you're Merry and I'm Pippin… Peregrin Took!' He said. 

'Are you mad?' he asked, but Param didn't hear him, because hundreds of memories were coming back to him. When it was done he looked straight ahead of himself. 'Param?'

'You do not remember, do you?'

'Remember what?'

'We've done this before… I used to be Pippin, and you used to be Merry a long, long time ago!' he said, and Terry shook his head. 

'You have gone mad…'

'I have not!' Param said, and looked as if he were about to pout. 'You do not remember any thing? Not even Estella?' he said. He could remember how much Estella had meant to Merry when he was Merry. 'How happy you were with her?' he said, and Terry's face twisted into a rather strenuous face. 

'Estella?' Terry whispered, and Pippin nodded. 'Fatty's sister…' Param smiled to himself, he could remember now. 

'Yes!' he said, and if he were not bound he would have embraced him. 'See? I'm not mad!' 

'And right before we died… we went to Rohan… to see Eomer… he had asked us to come…' Terry said, and looked at Param. 'Pip! Oh, my dear lad, I haven't seen you for ages!' he said, and let a tear fall down his cheek. 'And Ondril is Frodo, and Brom is Sam!' 

'Your right, they are! Do you think they know?' 

'Well, I'm not sure, but from the way they had been acting sense we left Imladris, I wouldn't be surprised. Oh, Terry, you looked exactly as you had before!' Param said, absolutely beside himself. 

'So do you, but it seems we've gotten ourselves in the same predicament as last time.' Terry said, looking sadly at his hands. 

'Do not complain, we can talk to each other this time.' Param said and Terry agreed. 

'Yes, you're r-' he said, but he didn't finish because an orc was coming over to him. He became quiet immediately, and it picked him up. 

'Come on, you scum, my turn to carry you now. I don't know why you can't run on your own two feet. If I'm going to carry you I might as well cut your legs off and eat them, you ain't using 'em!' he said, and Terry's eyes widened like plates. The orc did no such thing, though, and another picked Param. 'Honestly, your heavy for such small… tasty little things!' he grumbled, and Param was starting to think they were going to get eaten. He could see it was dawn, and the group started running again. 

They had run for half the day, until Param got an idea. He had been trying to remember how he had told Aragorn that he was still living, and he had finally remembered. 

'My brooch!' he thought to himself, and with his mouth he took it off and spit it onto the ground. None of the orcs cared or saw, and they simply trampled on it. Terry saw what his older cousin had done, and he smiled at his idea. Even he had not thought of that. 

They ran throughout the rest of the day and they stopped again during this night. The leader, whose name was Ocklag, seemed to not even know that they were being tracked. They set up camp again, and this time there was a guard for the two hobbits the whole time. Two of them, and if the hobbits did something as much as breathe heavily, they would taunt them. 

'Shut up, you.' 

'It's your fault we have to sit here and not eat. Why can't you just walk?'

'Know what looks tasty on them? Their hands, and big feet. I like bony food; gives a nice crunch.' The one next to Param said, and the colour left Param's face. 

'I bet their brains are nice a soft. Mmm… I hungry just thinking about it.'

'If their here much longer, maybe Ocklag would let us take a chunk out of them, just to see if their still any good, they look young.' By now, with the two orcs licking their lips and talking of eating them, Param and Terry became very paranoid about keeping body parts. 

Other than the low grumbling of the camp, it was a quiet night, and the two fell asleep. Screaming and shouting suddenly awoke them both. Off in the distance they could see the figures of horses. 

'Riders of Rohan!' Terry said as orcs rushed past him, he was about to stand when there was an order to 'get the halflings,' he scrambled up, and started dodging orcs and swords. 

The horses were closing in on them in their circle, and there was mass confusion throughout the camp. Orcs were getting their swords and things, putting out the fire, not noticing the hobbits. An orc, who could not find his sword, went to the Terry, and roughly took out his knife from Greenwood. 

'You're not going to be needing this.' He growled, not even realizing they were trying to escape. They might have been able to escape if Param hadn't stumbled on a rock and fallen. Terry tried to help him up, but it was too late, he was hit over the head and they were grabbed by two orcs, then being carried to Ocklag. 

'Come on, their not over here!' he said, and the orcs followed, Param getting a face full of his orc's armpit. He fainted from the stench, and he knew no more. 

Terry awoke later, to the rough, painful running of the orc he was on. He near groaned when he did so, but remembered that the orc would probably hit him over the head, again. He had woken slightly before, but they had always made him pass out. This time he stayed still and a little while later, he was dumped on the ground. He sat up quietly, and saw that Param was awake also. 

They sat in silence, for they were being even closer watched now. Through their silence, though, there are things that just can not be controlled by the human (or hobbit) will. Through their silence came the unmistakably loud rumble of a hobbit's stomach. The two had not been fed much through out the time that they were awake, and their stomachs could not take it any longer. 

'Hey, their hungry.' Ocklag said, and pointed to the two. 'Feed 'em.' 

'What?'

'Feed 'em! We're not outa food, and the Old Man want's them alive.' He said, and Param's orc, whose name was Hukgug, threw a piece of moldy bread, and a bowl of, what looked like, muddy water. Being offered nothing else, Terry and Param picked up the bread with both hands, and ate as much as they could. Remembering what they had been given to drink last time, they just eyed it wearily. 

'Stop yer belly-aching.' Wagnut, Terry's orc, said, 'it's just from the river.' Param then took it up slowly, and drank it, finding it was only water. Terry drank his too, and their stomachs were fuller than they had been for a week. 

'Ocklag, where we going next?'

'Straight to Mordor, you idiot. I've told you that twelve times already. It'll take another week.' Ocklag growled back, and Terry and Param could feel their faces going pale and they looked at each other. Mordor was not where they wanted to go. 


	21. Findings of a Warrior

**Yet again, another shorter chapter. I apologize… I am wholly sorry. It just did not call for the normal amount. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it, it was a blast!**

**~Hoshiko**

Findings of a Warrior

The waters of the Anduin gushed through the riverbed. The day was clear and bright, you would not have known that that day there had been blood spilled this day. Yet, in its waters, the Anduin showed signs of it, for it carried a body of a man. He was clad richly in furs, though these were very weather beaten and soaked through. His wet, dark hair matted to his head, and the water was red where his blood had been spilled. 

As if the waters knew of his presence, the next bend it hit, it dumped the body on the sandy beach. He lay there, not moving, it seemed as if he were dead. The sun can be a great healer, though, and he moved. 

At first, it was only his hand, but as he flexed it more and more, he brought his arm up and groaned. He had tried to move the other and it didn't work. He sat up slowly, and took from his left arm a knife. It hurt, and he winced in pain but did not complain. With his good hand he ripped off a piece of cloth from his tunic and rapped it around his wound. Luckily, it had not wholly gone through his arm. With his good hand and teeth he tightened the bond. 

'You let the hobbits be taken, you fool.' He said to himself in loathing. 'Teredon, your father was right, you are an idiot.' He muttered and stood. The sun was hot under all his robes, but in his half-awakened state he did not heed it, and did not bother to take off his extra clothes. He stumbled, fell, and did not get up. 

Teredon could see the hobbits looking at him, grabbing at his hand to try and help him up. Before they could they were grabbed from behind and faded away. He screamed for them, but it did not help, and the dream ended. 

Teredon could hear the crackling of the fire, and he wondered if it had all been a dream. He would wake up, and look around the camp, Terry, Param, Ondril, and Brom, all safe, sleeping. He cracked one eye open, and saw it was not so. The light hurt his head, so he closed it again.

'I was wondering when you would a wake.' A voice said. Teredon's eyes flew open, and he looked at the stranger. He was old, and a cloak hid his face. His body was bent with years and Teredon had no idea who the old man was. 'You are lucky I found you. Well, actually, it was not me that found you, but rather Starflight my horse. He started running off course, and didn't listen to me when I told him to stop. Who would have thought a man's horse would be smarter than the man himself, hm?' he laughed and Teredon shook his head, still slightly dizzy. 

'Who are you?' He asked, and the old man stopped laughing. 

'Now, now, no time for that. You will find out when the time is right, but you need not worry, I am a friend.' He said, and as Teredon sat up he gave him a bowl of food. Something in the old man's voice told him he truly was in good company. 'Now, you look like you have been traveling for quite some time. I'm in need of a good tale, tell me of your adventures.' The old man said, and Teredon nodded. He told the old man, start to finish of his traveling with the Fellowship, leaving out the fact of the Stone. 

'And then… they took the hobbits and I fell, being washed up somewhere on the riverbed.' He said, and the Old Man nodded, thinking of all the things he had heard. 'Do you know where we are?' 

'Well, I found you near the South Undeep, but I took you on my horse and we have ridden a great distance. We are just west of Sarn Gebir of Emyn Muil.' 

'Sarn Gebir? That is more than a week's ride from the South Undeep, your horse must ha-' He started, but the old man stopped him with his hand. 

'My horse is one of the few of the _Mearas, he is the quickest horse you will ever lay eyes on. He fly's like the wind, or rather, a shooting star, hence his name.' The old man explained, and Teredon looked at the horse that was currently grazing in the grasses of Rohan. _

'The only other _Mearas_ I am aware of was the great horse named Shadowfax. It could be tamed by none except an Istari name-'

'Gandalf. You may find that I am very learned in that war, Master Teredon.' He said, and Teredon immediately stood and unsheathed his sword. 

'How do you know my name?'

'I know more than your name, I also know that you left out one important detail in your story. There was a stone, wasn't there, Master Teredon, carried by another hobbit?' 

'Who are you? How do you know of the Stone?' 

'As I said, I know more than you think.' The man answered and stood. Teredon took his as a sign that he was going to attack him, and he started to swing his sword. It grew too hot for his touch, though, and he dropped it. 'I would not suggest attacking me, I am a friend.' The old man said, and cast aside his cloak. It revealed a bright white light that Teredon had to shield his eyes from. The light faded, though, and it revealed a very old man indeed, clad in white, with a snow-white beard and hair. Teredon bowed immediately. 

'Brendalin, you must forgive me, I d-' he said, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Brendalin… yes, I believe I know that name. Brendalin the Grey. Well, as you can see, I've gone through a slight change. I am Brendalin the White, now, and I have come to help you. It is an ill fate that I find you as such.' He said, and Teredon stood, putting his sword in its sheath. 

'How is it you came back, I- we- saw you disappear!' he said, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Well, after you saw me disappear, we had been transported to a place where no time passes, or passes too quickly. Seconds were years, years milleniums. It seemed as if we stood on nothingness, but we stood firm, on the same level. Around us were millions of stars and lights, all still. 

I took up my sword and hit him again and again. Using my staff I conjured the forces of the universe, and put it into my sword. After he threw more flame at me, I hit him with some of the energy from my staff. He fell forward, as I had planned, onto my sword, which pierced his heart. He had fallen upon my foot, too, though, and I attempted to pull it out from under him. I was too injured from the battle to, though, and I felt my breath leave me. At some point my body was transferred from the place of no time, back to Middle-earth. My breath came back to me, and I found myself on top of the Mountains of Mirkwood. How I became there, I do not know, but I found that I was unclothed. Too weak to climb down the steep slopes myself, I blew a desperate whistle and immediately to me came an old friend. An eagle, they always come to my aid. He brought me down to the doors of the Mountain, and they let me in. 

There the Lord and Lady had me clothed in white, for they could sense the change, and told me that you had left three days before my coming. I thank them and left, the eagle taking me to the fields of Rohan where I found Starflight.' Brendalin told his story, as Teredon looked at him in awe. 

'It seems you are destined to do that!' he said when Brendalin finished. Brendalin had looked pained to tell his story, but he laughed at this and nodded. 

'Yes, so I am.'

'Yes, but, can you tell me… the other Istari, where is he now?' Teredon asked, his curiosity had continually grown about the Istari, for they had seen nothing of him.

'He has moved from his original spot in the Isengaurd to Mordor. He has grown wiser, for he knows that Mordor is the safer spot, for it is better guarded. What he is planning in that place I do not know, for I have not been able to keep an eye on him since he moved there.' Brendalin explained. 

'I see.' Was all Teredon could say, and he sat staring into the light of the fire. 

'Now, I will take you to Gondor tomorrow. For, you see, that horn has been missing from it for a great time.' He said, eyes twinkling. Teredon looked down into the fire, ashamed. 

'I failed on the quest, I would be bringing shame upon Gondor.' He said, and Brendalin put his cloak back on.

'You fought valiantly and have seen more battles than anyone in your house. Besides, your father is away with your brother. When he returns I will tell him of your adventures. We've been friends for a great time, he will see that you have brought glory to the Stewards of Gondor.' Brendalin said, but Teredon looked doubtful. He laid himself down to sleep, making sure to not lay on his bad arm, which he had found had been newly bandaged. 

Teredon had a dreamless sleep, and he awoke late in the next morning. He felt very rested, and when he moved his shoulder he found that it was nearly healed. 

'What magic had you given me, that my arm would heal this quickly?' he asked, and Brendalin smiled. 

'No magic, but _athelas_. Of course, in the hands of a proper healer, it would be wholly healed by now.' Brendalin said, and looked around. 'Now, where is that horse?' he muttered, and whistled again. Not only did Starflight come this time, but also so did a walnut colored horse, coat shining in the light of the day. Teredon looked at it in wonder and pet its nose. 

'That one had yet to be given a name, though he is just as quick as Starflight.' Brendalin explained, 'he was also easily tamed. Keep good care of him, though, for he is valuable to Rohan. Now, if we are ready, let us be off!' he said, and Teredon mounted his horse, riding along side Brendalin. 

They rode for the rest of the day, and in the middle of it Teredon shouted over to Brendalin. 

'Brendalin, where are the others, can you tell me?' he asked, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Yes, yes I can. Aradraen, Relnik, and Froin are following the group of orcs that have Param and Terry. If they are not careful they may loose track of them. Now, do not worry yourself, I do not believe any harm will come to Param and Terry. Ondril and Brom have gone off by themselves, they have reached the Emyn Muil by now. My hope lies with them, for there are more dangers than I believe they realize.' Brendalin said, and Teredon looked straight ahead of them. 

'I see, then Param and Terry are still alive?'

'Yes, and finding out more about themselves than I believe they had ever dreamed they had done.' He said, and this puzzled Teredon, so he puzzled himself the rest of the day with it. With their horses they rode on during the night, and near the middle of the night the White City could be seen. It showed bright against a dark sky, lanterns giving off the light. 

'Minas Tirith… welcome home.' Teredon said to himself as they came upon the gates of his city. 


	22. Rule in the Golden Hall

**Another chapter, I've been writing the new part's chapter's non-stop now. Yay! Lolz, I love writing this story, it ish just so much fun!! Yippee do da day! Heheh ^_^;; Ok, I'm done now, buh-bai!**

**~Hoshiko**

Rule in the Golden Hall

The horses of Rohan carried their three riders quickly through their native lands. They had been traveling through the lands for one and a half days since they had left the pile of bodies, Aradraen carrying Param's knife in her belt. It was night now, and they decided to stop before entering Edoras, camping under a rather large rock. It was a warm night, and the fire they made was not large. 

'We will enter Edoras tomorrow.' Aradraen said as she passed around some _lembas_, they had run out of real food that morning. 

'And what if we are not welcome?' Froin asked, poking the fire with a stick. 'Eothan himself said that they were under bad rule. What if we are thrown out the front gates?' 

'Hopefully it will not come to that, my friend.' Relnik said, and took a bite of his _lembas_. They then sat in silence, but their horses neighing and running off quickly broke it. They each jumped up, trying to retrieve them, but it was of no use, they were gone. 

'Our luck is turning for the worse!' Froin groaned, and Relnik put a hand on her shoulder to silence her. 

'There is someone out there… I can see them.' He said, and slowly they could all see the figure of a bent being in a cloak. 

'Who is there?' Aradraen called out, but they received no answer. The figure just kept coming toward them. 'I say, stranger, what is your name?' she called out, and again there was no answer. Under the cloak, Relnik's eyes caught a snow-white beard, and glimmering eyes. 

'Relnik, it is Lonel…' Froin said, voice in a horse whisper. 'Ready your bow!' Relnik bent his bow, slowly, not wholly sure. 

'I do not know, my friend…'

'What?'

'Relnik is right, Froin, we can not simply shoot an old man. We do not know if it is Lonel.' Aradraen hissed at Froin, but Froin readied her axe. 

'An old man would not wander by himself.' She said, and the old man came to them, faster now. She looked about ready to throw it, when Relnik's bow dropped from his hand. 

'Relnik, what are you do-'

'Friends!' the old man suddenly cried, and Froin's head snapped to his figure. 'Do not worry, I will not hurt you!' he said, and Aradraen went forward to him. 

'Come, you must excuse my friend, we have been under great stress.' She said, and the old man laughed. 

'Understandable, understandable.' He said, and stood by the fire. 'I saw some horses run past me when I came by, were they yours?' he asked, and Relnik nodded. 

'Yes, they were.' He said, and under the old man's hood, they could see the glint of his eyes. 

'An elf, and a dwarf!' he said, examining them closely, 'I have not seen an elf or dwarf for a very long time!' 

'Many have not.' Froin mumbled none too kindly. 

'Now, now, it is not a time to get hostile!' the man said, and sat down. When he did so, a flash of white could be seen from under his cloak, but he covered it quickly. 'A companion did the same, and it was not to his liking.' He said, and Froin immediately jumped up. 

'All right, Lonel, what have you done with our friends? Speak quickly or there will be no head for your hood!' she said, but she never gave him time to explain. He immediately jumped up onto a rock, becoming taller than they had thought him. He threw aside his cloak, and started glowing a bright white light. With a cry Froin threw her axe, but it was blown back into a near tree. Relnik fired his bow, but before it could hit the person it burst into pieces, and Aradraen's now drawn sword became hot as if with fire. The light about him faded, and they could clearly see who it was. 

'As I said, it was not to his liking.' He said, and smiled at them. 

'Brendalin!' Relnik cried, bowing his head. 'How have you come back to us?' 

'If I recall, people seem to keep welcoming you as such.' Aradraen said, awe in her voice. 

'Yes, that does seem to be the normal greeting. No matter, do not look so appalled with yourself Froin! If I were in your position, I would have done the same!' he said, and she nodded. 

'What friend were you speaking of?' Froin asked suddenly, and Brendalin put up a hand. 

'Now, now, I will answer all questions when the time to answer them is correct. Now I will answer Relnik's question, I will tell you how I have come back to you.' Brendalin said, and did so; not telling them that he had already found Teredon. 

'And of Lonel, what has become of him?' Aradraen asked, suddenly interested since the subject had come up. 

'Lonel is now in Mordor, and I have recently been near there. I had Starflight on top of a hill. The mountain is burning brighter now; the fires are spewing higher than I had thought. I could see large groups of orcs traveling to Mordor, all clad in armor. He is planning on an attack, and I have strong reason to believe his first attack would be Rohan. He has a grip on the King Heogrid.' Brendalin said, and Aradraen crumpled a leaf from a _lembas in her hand. _

'How long until they attack?' She asked, and Brendalin thought about it. He did not move for a great while, and they had started to wonder if he had fallen into a strange sleep. He nodded after a minute, though, and gave them his estimate. 

'About ten days at the least.' He said, and Aradraen nodded. 

'That would be enough time to get the people of Rohan to a safer location.' She said, and Brendalin looked at the direction of Edoras.

'Yes, that is saying that we can get the King out of his son's hand.' Brendalin said, and all were silent.

The next day they awoke from the little sleep they had gotten, and started off for Edoras. They reached it at the middle of the day, and ran through the open gates of the city, up to the castle in which the King stayed. They dismounted their horses, and walked up the stairs, being stopped by the guard before entering. 

'Who are you, and what is your business here?' he asked, and the wizard looked into the man's eyes. 

'It is I Brendalin, along with Aradraen of the Dunedain, Relnik of Rivendell and Froin of the Misty Mountains. Did I not tell you I would return with friends?' he asked, and the man nodded. 

'You did, but our King now has trouble telling who is friend and who is foe.' The man whispered so others did not hear. 'It is my orders that no one enters with any weapons of any sort.' 

'Surely, you do not believe that we would use them against him!' Froin snorted, and the man shook his head. 

'I am sorry. But yesterday I would not have believed that there were still such things as dwarves and elves.' He said, and she snorted, setting her axe down. Relnik slowly put his bow down, and Aradraen put Elendil next to their bow. 

'If any harm comes to that, the same will happen to the one who harmed It.' she said, and the man nodded, seeing what the sword was. The man then looked at Brendalin, then his staff. 

'That is considered a weapon.' He said, but Brendalin leaned heavily upon it. 

'Now, now, I am an old man who has just traveled many miles to get here. If I do not have my staff I shall fall!' he said, and the man sighed, not wanting to argue, and let them into the grand hall. The entire thing was still made of gold, and at the end of it sat an old man on his throne. Next to the throne stood a younger man, rather pasty in skin color. He had black, shifty eyes, and when they fell upon the wizard, they turned to slits, making seem more like a snake than a man. 

'Brendalin! You were advised to not come back!' he said as they walked down the hall, Brendalin still relying on his staff. 'You do not listen, even when the advise is in your best interest!' he said, and turned to the man who was his father. 'They have come to try and take your rule, my father! I suggest you force them to go.' He said, and his father answered him, saying something that only he could hear. 

'Heobid! Your voice is venom to my ears! I suggest you talk no longer,' he said, and something in his eyes made the young man stop talking. 'Heogrid, my friend!' he said, and the old man stood slowly, walking up to them. They were surprised he was still able to carry himself. 

'You… you are no friend of mine… go away,' he said, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Your son has poisoned your mind further than the last time I had walked these halls.' He said, and put out his hand. At the same time, a group of men from the courts tried to attack him. The Three Hunters immediately took the men on, making them unable to fight. In a flash Heobid took out his knife, and was about to stab Brendalin when Relnik grabbed his arm, forcing the knife from his hand. 

'Look at that!' he said, arm around Heobid's neck, 'stopped by a children's tale!' 

While they were doing this, Brendalin had put out his hand, and Heogrid had stopped walking all together. 

'Your son has poisoned your mind, you are not as old as you may think! He has sucked the life from you. I would not suggest taking gifts from him any longer.' He said, and from around Heogrid's neck he pulled a chain with a raven-black stone on the end of it. Once it touched his hand, it disintegrated into black dust. He cast it upon the ground immediately, and put his hand down, Heogrid being able to move again. Slowly he put his hand up to his face, and it was as if time was traveling backward.

'I… I… Brendalin… I have not seen you for years, how are you? Speaking of which, where have I been?' he asked, and Brendalin nodded. 

'I am fine, and I believe your son knows how you've been, and what you've been doing.' He said, and looked at the ground at the pile of black dust. 'I believe you received a gift from him ten years ago. I small black stone; he had been controlling you with it for years.' He said, and Heogrid looked at his son, who was still in Relnik's hold. 

'No, not my son.' Heogrid said in disbelief. But he could vaguely remember the voice of his son, telling him of what to do. At this Brendalin cast aside his cloak, and his white robes could clearly be seen. 

'I would not lie to you, my friend.' He said, and Heogrid looked in awe at the Istari's new robes. 

'Yes, your son. Even your nephew has realized it and he had been trying to tell you, but that stone had a bit of a grip on you, I'd say.' Aradraen said, and they could see the anger suddenly rise in his face. To Heogrid, it was as if a veil had been lifted from his son's face, and he saw not a healthy young lad, but a cold, snake-like man. His look turned to disgust and drew his sword. 

'You… disgusting little wretch!' he growled, and Heobid's face turned to terror. Relnik released him, and he fell to his knees before his father. 

'Father, it is I, your son Heobid!' he said, but the King would not be shaken. He grabbed his son by the robes and punched him, knocking his son's small crown from his head. 

'I have no son, I never had.' He said, casting Heobid to the ground. A trickle of blood showed brightly against Heobid's pasty skin from his mouth. He wiped it away, before Heogrid kicked him in his rear end, and practically shoved him out the door to the Great Hall. 'Leave my sight before I call my guards on you, you disgraceful little… Wormtounge!' he cried, and his son fell on the stairs, and scurried down them, taking a horse and running away from the city. After the War of the Ring, Wormtounge had become a very strong insult to any one in Rohan, and only used for such occasions. 

The commotion had roused residents out of their homes, and they had seen the whole thing. When Heobid had fled from the city, they looked up in wonder, for the King had not left his hall for years. 

'People of Rohan!' Froin called, smiling. 'I present to you your King!' mad applause then rang out from everyone, and King Heogrid looked out at his subjects. He was in rule again. 

'Tell me, what has happened to my country? To my nephew?' he asked, and turned to Brendalin. Brendalin then led him back into his Hall.


	23. Decisions of the King

**Chapter, apter, apter… apter… yah… all righty, then! Besides the freaky echo, I'm feeling good about this chapter, too. Not much to say about it, except I hope that you enjoy. ENJOY, DAMNIT, ENJOY! BWHAHAHAHAHAHA-AHA-AHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! *goes into sputtering cough* Right… bai bai!**

**~Hoshiko**

Decisions of the King

            'I am sorry, but I do not believe I knew of your names.' Heogrid said, and Brendalin nodded. 

            'Yes, the woman is Aradraen, heir of Isildur. The elf is Relnik, son of the Lord of Imladris, and the dwarf is Froin, daughter of Loin. They were traveling with me in the Fellowship that I believe you got word of.' Brendalin explained, and when each person was introduced, they bowed in their own fashion. 

'Heir of Isildur? Then the rumors are true… though I did not expect the heir to be female.' He said, and Froin snorted. 

'Is there something wrong with females?' she asked, and he put up a hand. 

'No, no, it just comes to a surprise, that is all.' He said, and pointed to a large table at the side of the Hall. 'Now, come and sit with me, for I would like to hear of your adventures!' he said, and they all did so. Brendalin looked to the doors of the Hall, and walked up to Heogrid. 

'I am sorry to say that in three days time I will have to leave you.' Brendalin said, and Aradraen looked at him. 

'Where are you going in such short period of time?' she asked, and Brendalin leaned upon his staff. 

'I can not answer that now, for it is not time. You will see when the time is correct.' He said, and she nodded grimly. She had always hated being left in the dark. 

'Now, what has become of my country?' Heogrid asked, and Relnik shook his head. 

'Alas, we have only been in your country for a short amount of time. We only know of a group of orcs that had taken some of our companions. They were killed by your nephew two days passed. He will have to tell you of anything else, for we do not know of it.' Relnik said, and at the mention of the hobbits, Froin bowed her head. 

'Eothan killed your companions?' Heogrid asked, and Aradraen nodded. 

'Yes, but he did not mean to, and our time of grieving is done with. We have moved on.' She said, and Relnik's head moved to the door of the hall. 

'Ah, unless my ears deceive me, he is walking up the stairs now.' He said, and immediately the doors of the Golden Hall opened, Eothan walking in, along with some of his companions. When he saw his uncle he immediately bowed on his knees. 

'My King!' he cried, and Heogrid smiled. 'When did this happen?' 

'I was recently brought back to reality by these four.' He said, and put a hand on his nephew's shoulder. 'Rise, brother-son! This is a time to rejoice!' he said, and the second Marshal of the Mark rose, smiling at his uncle's new found strength. 

'What have you done with my cousin?' Eothan asked quickly, and Heogrid's smile faded. 

'He was not your cousin, nor was he my son. It was his fault I did not see the good in you and the evil in him.' He said, and Eothan nodded. 'But I have let him go, and if he ever returns on the lands of Rohan he will be killed on the spot.' 

'But my King, he will go to his master, and he will council him in what we will do!' Eothan said, and Heogrid nodded.

'Yes, yes he might and probably will. I must admit I was acting hastily and in anger. But what is done is done, and we must go from there.' Heogrid said, and motioned to the table. 'Now, I will call the servants and we will feast! And you,' he turned to the Three Hunters, 'you will now tell me of your travels, for I know my brother-son would like to hear them as well.' He said, and he called servants to him, telling them to prepare food. They did so and in a short amount of time it was brought to them. 

The Three Hunters told their story to him and all listened attentively. When she became tired of doing so, Relnik told it and finally Froin. When they came to the point of Aradraen letting Ondril go, she took it up, but Heogrid stopped her. 

'You let the halfling go?' he asked, surprised, and Aradraen nodded. 

'Yes, the Stone was out of our hands, we could not keep him any longer.' She said, and he looked at her in disbelief. 

'Surely the halfling will be killed on his own.' He said, but Froin put down the goblet she had just been drinking from. 

'He was not alone, another went with him. Bromwine Gardener, also of the Shire.' 

'You can not tell me two halflings would make it on their own in the wilderness.' 

'We have great trust in them.' Relnik said, 'they have a power with them that will protect them, I could feel it when ever they were together.' 

'Elves put great trust in little hands.' Heogrid said, and Aradraen's look started to become impatient, and she said something in Sindarin. 

'Even the smallest person can change the fate of the world. Wise words from a wise person. There is nothing to worry about, he will complete his task.' She said, and something in her voice said it was final. Heogrid wished to no longer dwell on the subject, so he let them continue with their tale.  When they had completed it, he sat thoughtfully. 

'And there is something I wish to inform you of.' Aradraen said. 'Brendalin told us of it. Lonel is planning on an attack from Mordor. He saw the armies going into the Black Gates. There will be an attack on your country in nine days at the least. The people of Rohan are not safe here, you must take them some where else.' She said, and his expression changed. 

'You are sure of this?' he asked gravely and Brendalin nodded. 

'I would not have told them if I did not think it was of great urgency.' 

'Nine days?'

'Yes.' 

'Are you sure?'

'I have no doubt.' 

'That is due time. I must think of what we are to do, then.' He said, and stood up, leaving. Eothan followed him through the hall to help him decide. 

'How long do you think it will take him to make a decision?' Froin asked. 

'King Heogrid is known for his time-management. He will use the full nine days to decide and follow out with a plan.' Brendalin answered, and Aradraen looked at him in disbelief. 

'It will take him that long?' 

'It has always taken him that long or longer to make a decision. He is not one to act in hastiness. You even heard him say that throwing his son out was acting in haste.' Brendalin explained, and stood. 'Now, it is night and you have a few good nights for being able to rest. I suggest doing it, it may be a long battle in a short amount of time.' Brendalin said, and went to also help Heogrid. The others, however, went to take advantage of warm beds. 

Brendalin had been right. Heogrid had yet to decide the next morning and the morning after that. The night of the second day, as Heogrid sat in the same room, thinking of what he was to do next, Brendalin stood at the dining table. 

'As I have said, I will leave tomorrow in the morning. Do not be surprised if I do not come back to you until you are in the place Heogrid has decided on.' He said, and Aradraen looked at him questioningly. 

'How will you know where we are?' 

'I have my sources, Aradraen. You of all people should know that.' He said, and left down the hall. 

The next morning Heogrid joined them at breakfast for the first time, and when they had finished eating Brendalin again rose and looked at the King. 

'I promised you I would leave this day, and this day I shall. You have received my council, Heogrid, and it is time to hear theirs. I will not return to you immediately, but I will return, I have no doubt in that. Good bye, and good luck.' He said, and the Three Hunters followed him out to the stalls. 

'Do you know when you will return to us?' Aradraen asked as they walked out to Starflight. 

'Look for me four days from now. My presence will be announced. I must go now, good bye!' he said as he mounted Starflight and rode out of the stalls. The Three Hunters then went back into the hall, where Heogrid still sat. 

'Sire,' Aradraen said, sitting next to him. 'Have you come to a decision?' she asked and Heogrid nodded. 

'I have. We will go to the great fortress of Helm's Deep,' he said. Aradraen had expected this. 

'My Lord, I do not know if that is the best decision. Many of your soldiers are still patrolling your country. How many men will you have to fight them?' she asked, and he nodded. 

'I have thought of that, which is why I have chosen that fortress. We can not run, we will fight no matter where we go. Helm's Deep is the safest place, it has food for the woman and children, along with food for my men.' He said, his tone rising. 

'We have seen these beasts fight.' Froin said, and stood. 'They are ruthless, killing things. They have no respect for life what so ever, and eat even ones of their own kind!' she said, and he looked at her, long and hard.

'These are not normal orcs, but Uruk-hai. Bred by Saruman in the Third Age. King Theoden made the same choice, and nearly lost.' Relnik said, but Heogrid was not moved. 

'This is not King Theoden's time. But he did win, though it seemed hopeless at times.' 

'But Theoden made the same mistakes!' Aradraen suddenly cried out. 

'Then what do you suggest? There is no other option. We will go to Helm's Deep, that is my decision, and I will not have an elf, dwarf, and woman rule my country. Weather the woman is the Heir of Isildur or not, I will not be told how to run my Kingdom!' 


	24. Return to Gondor

**Hear ye, hear ye, another chapter I do posteth! Flameth not, nor basheth not, for I will sent the powers of Morgoth upon you! I tell no lies! **

**Bwhahahaha****! Ok, another chapter-apter-apterrrrrrrrr dun dun dunnnnn! Hehe, I like the chapter, particuarly fond of the ending, ok, bai!**

**~Hoshiko**

Return to Gondor 

The gates to Minas Tirith were closed, and when the two horsemen came up to it a guard opened a small window in front of them. There was no exchange of words, though, for once the guard saw who was asking to be allowed to enter, and he opened it immediately. 

'Welcome back, sir.' He said and bowed to Teredon. Teredon nodded, and they rode their horses through Minas Tirith, up to the top level, where the castle now stood. On their way up, people stared at the site of the Steward's youngest son, who they had not seen for months. When they arrived, they left their horses and walked up the stairs.  

The guard at the doors to the castle looked hard at the face of the man who had come, recognizing him immediately. 

'Teredon, we've been wondering when you'd return my Lord.' He said, and bowed, Teredon nodding at the guard. When the guard saw whom he brought with him, he put a hand to the side of his mouth. 'And be happy your father isn't home!' he said, and Teredon put up his hand. 'By the way, you look horrid!' 

'Thank you, Generad. The same to you.' He said, and Generad smiled. 

'As always, my Lord.' He said, and Teredon opened the great doors to the castle. When he did, everything stopped, though someone in the hall dropped a tray. For a second they could not recognize him, until a woman came to a doorway in the hall, and saw who he was. 

'Teredon!' she cried, and ran up to him. 

'Hello, Tedren, how are you?' he asked, and she looked at his clothes. Tedren was Teredon's younger sister. Her face was as proud as his was, and it was easy to tell they were related. She had the same dark hair as his, though longer and wavy, and her eyes were the same color. 

'How am I? You look as if you've been in Mordor and back again!' she said, and Brendalin smiled. 

'You are lucky I found him. He would be dead now if it were not for my horse.' He said, and she smiled at him, noticing him for the first time. 

'Thank you, Brendalin.' She said, and suddenly embraced her brother. He did the same back, and when they let go Brendalin nodded. 

'Yes, well, I have business somewhere else, now.' Brendalin said, his face becoming urgent. 'I will come back later and tell you of what you are to do next. Take advantage of being home, for it might be a while until you are in its comfort again.' Brendalin said, and turned, walking out the door, back to his horse. Everyone then went back to his or her work, trying not to stare at the man who had just walked through the door. Tedren then took him by the hand and started dragging him to his living-chambers. 

'You must tell me how you became so filthy. I take it that the stone was not destroyed yet,' Tedren said quickly and Teredon shook his head. 

'No, it was not.' He said as she took him into his living quarters. There she told a servant to draw some hot water for him and he looked around his room. 'You're getting fussy.' He said, and she stopped suddenly. She always had been protective of her siblings, sense their mother had died, taking up the queen's duties as a ruler and a mother. 

'And how do you expect me to act?' she asked with a tone that made him feel like a naughty child. 'I mean, you come banging in, looking like the Nazgul itself, and expect me not to worry?' she said, and he sighed. 

'All right, I am sorry.' He said, and she nodded. 

'Now, I will have a feast made for your return, but before that you must get cleaned up. Oh, there's the servant; your bath is ready. Go on now, I will leave and have the feast prepared. While we are waiting you must tell me all that has happened.' She said, and he put a hand up to calm her. 

'Of course I will, sister. Now, let me relax, please.' He said, and she nodded, smiling. 

'Certainly. I can tell you have gone through a lot. I will calm down if you promise to tell me _everything. You know that if you do not now I will get it out of you at any rate.' She said, and left, closing the door behind her. He sighed, got undressed and went to his bathroom, where he took a long, hot bath. It felt grand, and he felt as if he could stay there for hours. In fact, he would have, if the water had not gotten cold. He then went back in, taking a towel with him, and looked through the drawers for his clothes. _

The ones he had worn for many months now had been taken away, his chain-mail hung on a dummy. He picked out a green tunic, along with dark green leggings and put them on. He then put on another pair of boots and dark green robe, trimmed in gold. Lastly he put on a golden belt, and hung his horn across his body. He planned to never have it leave his sight; it was too precious a gift. 

Checking his reflection in the mirror, he then opened his door and walked out into the hall. Walking through the halls he got many 'welcome home, sir,' and he would all ways nod to them. He was on his way to the kitchen when Tedren came rushing down the hall. 

'Teredon, you look much better.' She said and smiled. 'Come, the dinner is ready.' 

'A dinner in a warm house is well met, you did too much.' Teredon said, and Tedren shook her head. 

'No it is not. Father is not here, he can not say anything about it, a feast is proper.' She said, and they walked into the hall together. When they did so everyone stood and bowed to them. When they sat everyone except the servants sat after them, and before the feast began Teredon stood. 

'I would like to thank you all!' he said, putting his hands out to the meal in front of them, 'but I will only be home for a very short amount of time. I am just having a rest, if you will. But I am here now, and I plan to enjoy it as much as possible, thank you.' He said, and sat. Everyone else then began talking, while Teredon looked at the food in front of him. It was warm and plentiful, more than he had seen in months. He started right away. 

'Teredon, tell me of your adventures now.' Tedren said, and Teredon started from when he left Gondor. It took a great deal of time, but when he was done she sat, staring at the walls of the hall. 

'You have been through much, my dear brother…' she muttered, and he nodded. 

'Yes, it was a perilous journey.' He said, and she nodded. 'But the Stone is not destroyed, it is not done. I am afraid that war will come here,' he said, and she sighed. 

'So it will, most likely. Father will know what to do: we have a great number of troops with us. Will it come here first?'

'I do not know, I only know of what has happened when I fell…' he said, and she saw the pain in his face. 

'Teredon, it was not your fault. You are too hard on yourself. Weather father will see it or not, you have brought pride to Gondor,' she said. 

'I let them be taken… it is my fault that two innocent hobbits have been taken and tortured… killed…' he said, and she put her hand on his shoulder. 

'Teredon, you must not think like that. Please, you do not know of how much you have helped.' Teredon stood, and walked into his room. He needed to be alone, and Tedren knew this. She did not follow. 

She knew how he felt, though, for their father was not one to be too kind to any except their brother Toromid. He could be plain cruel at times, for his eldest son was his favorite, and everyone could plainly see it. Toromid did not like the way his siblings were treated, but his father could not be changed. Once he made up his mind, it would not be shaken, and though Toromid tried, nothing changed. That was the reason why Toromid was with his father in Western Gondor now, he was favored. 

The feast ended, and people went back to their own business, thanking Tedren for it, and hoping that Teredon would be back for a good time. She merely nodded to them, and smiled. 

Teredon spent the next five days in Minas Tirith, enjoying his home. It was nice to be there and not be scrutinized by anyone, just being able to live his life. One night, as he sat in his room in great thought, there was a knock on the door. 

'Come in.' he said, and Tedren appeared, closing the door behind her. 

'I would like to talk.' She said, and he motioned to a chair. She took it, and looked him straight in the eyes. 

'What is on your mind?' he asked, and she took a deep breath. 

'You know I am trained in fighting, do you not?'

'Yes.'

'And you know the extent of them, correct?' 

'Yes, you have beaten me once or twice'

'I wish to use those skills in helping Gondor.' She said, and he immediately shook his head. 

'No, Tedren, you can not fight.' He said, and she sighed. 

'Oh, come along, Teredon! I am skilled in the ways of a sword, you know this. One more person to fight can help win the war.' She said, but he stood. 

'Or one more to become killed.' He answered, and she stood, too. 

'I am sure if you just try to help convince father, he will surely-' 

'No.' 

'But what of this Dweller of whom you speak? She is a woman and she is allowed to fight.' She argued, but a light in Teredon's eyes told her to speak no more of the subject. He was quiet for a moment, but when she did speak he did so slowly. 

'There were many times Aradraen could have been killed. Besides, she has been training for twice the years you have, while living in the Wild. She is a Ranger, Tedren, not a young woman who has been locked up in a tower her whole life.' He said, and Tedren looked at the expression on his face. He sat down quickly, and went back to polishing his sword. 

'You care for her, don't you?' Tedren asked, and Teredon did not look up. 

'I do not know of what you speak.' He said, and she nodded.

'Yes you do. I've seen the look in your eyes every time you speak of her. You worry about her, don't you?' she asked, and Teredon stood, sword in front of him. In its reflection he could see Tedren's face. 

'No.' 

'Look me in the eyes and tell me you do not love her.' Tedren said, but Teredon did not. 'You can not, that gives me the proper answer. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Teredon, loving some one.' 

'I do not care for her.' Teredon said quietly, looking at Tedren at last, 'I can not care for her.' 


	25. From Death, Back Again

**Another chapter.**** Mwee! Ee!!! YAY!!! Me ish so happy, I love this chapter, too (though not as much as the finding of Teredon, that has yet to be topped!) ENJOY! ENJOY NOW, DAMNIT!!!**

**~Hoshiko**

From Death, Back Again

Param and Terry looked wearily over the head of their orc. It seemed they had been on the backs of these creatures for months. In reality they had only been six days, but it seemed like an eternity. They had not stopped since the hobbits had awoken. Day turned to night, though, and the two hobbits were dumped onto the ground. 

'We haven't had anything to eat for four days,' Param's grumbled at the leader. 

'They have their legs, why don't we make 'em walk?' Terry's complained. The leader ignored them. 

'Hey, if we're not going to make them run, they don't need their legs…' Param's said, a light suddenly burned in his eyes, and Param and Terry's widened. Terry's orc licked his lips and took out a jagged knife. 

'Do what you want with them,' the leader growled back, making a fire, 'it'll be your head, not mine. Just remember, we're not too far from the strong hold of the men, make too much noise and it'll be all our heads,' the other two turned on Param and Terry, knife glittering in the moonlight. 

Param and Terry were suddenly frozen with fear. The orcs advanced upon them. With a leap, Param's orc jumped on him, and Terry could suddenly run, but his tackled him. Param's plunged his knife into Param's thigh, and he cried out in pain. But it did not get the chance to do any more because he himself shrieked, and fell dead. 

The poison from the knife immediately took effect, and through the blurriness of his eyes, Param could see a figure kneel next to him. Darkness then took its toll. 

Terry tried to get away from his orc when Param screamed, but he could not: it was too strong. It was about to take out his knife, when his head rolled next to Terry, the end of a sword missing his face by an inch. Terry used all his strength and pushed the body off of him. A man went over to him and took out his knife, cutting his bonds. Terry could see another man go over to Param and cut his bonds, then pull the knife out of Param's leg, wrapping it the best he could. The leader orc was no where to be seen, Terry decided he had fled. 

'What are halflings like you doing here?' The man asked Terry, and Terry rubbed his wrists from his bonds. 

'Well, we certainly aren't here by choice!' he said, and the other man looked at the one near Terry. 

'This one has been stabbed, we must hurry.' He said, and picked Param up. 

'Do you mind being carried? It would be faster.' The man said to Terry, and Terry looked worriedly at Param. 

'Do what you must.' He said, and let the man pick him up. 

'We are not even a mile away from Minas Tirith, the other will get the help he needs there.' The man said, and Teredon nodded. They arrived there in an incredibly short amount of time, and they went immediately to the Houses of Healing. The hobbits were excepted by the lead Healer, and while Terry's wrists were treated for minor rope-burn, they were busy tending to Param's leg. When he had done as much as he could, which was clean the wound and give Param athelas vapor (not well done, but it would do the trick), he turned to a guard. 

'Tell the Steward's son that there are two halflings here, we must have their wounds recorded, along with the orcs that were passing through the lands.' He said, and the guard left. Terry had suddenly become very tired, though, and none of this registered. He fell asleep moments later. 

Teredon was sitting in the hall when a guard came up to him and bowed. 

'Sir, there were two halflings found, captured by a group of orcs. We have slain the orcs and the halflings are in the Houses of Healing.' Teredon immediately stood. 

'Take me to them.' He said, and the guard bowed, leading him down to the Houses. When Teredon arrived he saw that there were two hobbits lying down. One had a bandage on his leg, and the other merely asleep. He recognized them immediately. 

'What is wrong with them?' he demanded and the Healer nodded. 

'The one to your left was stabbed in his thigh, but he will heal. The one on your right is just mostly tired.' He explained, and Teredon sat next to them. He did not move from their side, and it was only when Terry stirred, did he come out of deep thought. Terry looked around groggily and when he saw Teredon he nearly jumped out of bed. 

'Teredon!' he cried, eyes huge. 'If I did not know better I would say that there's a spirit in my midst!' Teredon smiled kindly, and nodded. 

'Yes, and I might say the same. I am surprised, and very happy that you're alive. I thought I had failed you both.' He said sadness in his voice. To his surprise, Terry laughed. 

'Failed us? I daresay we're very… accustomed to it.'  He said, and when Teredon cocked an eyebrow, he shook his head, 'never mind.' 

'And Param?'

'Ah, yes…' said Terry, looking at his cousin, 'right before we were rescued, the orcs were about to cut off our legs to eat,' he shuddered, 'I was not hurt, but Param receive a nasty stabbing in his thigh. I believe they said it would take many days to heal with the help of some… athelas.' Terry said, straining to remember what the plant was that was used on him so long ago. Teredon nodded, looking at Param. 

'It is widely used now, that plant, but never really properly done. I am surprised you know of its correct name, I thought you would be more accustomed to Kingsfoil.' He said, and Terry shrugged. 

'I know of its use in the War of the Ring.' He said, and Teredon lifted both his eyebrows in surprise. 'Do not look at me like that, Ondril used to read it to me when I was a child to rather late in my tweens. It was wonderful to hear, of four hobbits… giving up a chance at a peaceful life… some giving up their life totally.' The pain he had felt when Frodo had left over the sea suddenly struck him, and he was quiet. He had long since forgotten, but the conversation had brought them back. In the silence, the body next to them moved and groaned. Teredon immediately went to his side, and soon came Terry. 

'Oh, hello! Am I dead?' Param asked sleepily, and Terry laughed. 

'Pi- Param, you lug, of course not. You just received a nasty knife to your leg.' He said, correcting himself. Param smiled, still rather groggy. 

'Then what's he doing here.'

'I'm quite alive, Master Param.' Teredon said, and laughed. 'I have just told Terry how wonderful it is to see you two alive too.' 

'I'm happy to see me alive.' Param said, and sat up, feeling the pain in his leg for the first time. 'Ow… that's going to leave a mark. But tell me, Teredon, how is your arm? Last I remember you were stabbed too.' 

'Oh, my arm is fine,' Teredon said, moving it, 'it healed quickly, as yours will.' He said, and Param nodded. 

'Terry…'

'Yes?'

'I'm hungry.' Teredon then burst out laughing, to the surprise of them both. 

'Even through orcs a hobbit's appetites will never fail.' He said, and stood, walking up to a nurse. 'Nurse, will you please bring down from the kitchens…' he turned to Param and Terry. 

'Mushrooms!'

'Coney's!'

'Mushroom and possibly rabbit stew for our guests?' he said, and the woman nodded. 

'Certainly.' She said, and bowed, leaving. Shortly she came back, two bowls in hand with spoons. 'Here you are, dears.' She said cheerfully. 'It was all ready cooking; I think someone slipped the healer a few words before he fell asleep.' She said, looking at Terry. Terry turned a rather bright red, and took his bowl. They ate hurriedly, not getting enough of the warm soup, and when they were done Teredon looked at them in wonder. It was more than he would have eaten at one sitting, and how it all fit into beings half the size of himself was beyond him. 

'Haven't you ever seen a hobbit eat?' Terry said, and Teredon shook his head. 

'Obviously not.' He said, and Terry looked out of the small window across his bed. 

'What time of day is it?' he asked, and Teredon looked out the window, too. 

'It is very early morning. You were asleep most the night.' Teredon said and on the stairs could be heard a staff, going slowly down them. They each looked to the door, and shortly enough a robe of white could be seen, then the figure of Brendalin stood in the doorway. Terry and Param gapped, while Teredon walked up to him. 

'You are back, my old friend!' Teredon said, and greeted Brendalin. 

'Yes, and none too soon.' Brendalin said, and looked at the two hobbits that were gapping at him, still. 'Ah! My young hobbits!' he said happily, and looked at both of them. 'We meet again.' He said. Something in his eyes told them he knew.

'Indeed we do, Brendalin!' Terry said, 'You really must stop dying on us like that, most uncalled for.' He said, and Brendalin smiled. 

'Yes, well, I see one of you did not get out unscathed.' Brendalin said, and Param looked at his leg.

'Yes, so I didn't.' he said, and Brendalin nodded. 

'Then it is Terry who will come with me. It is a strange fate that you will go to Rohan, my Brandybuck.' He said, and Teredon looked inquisitively at the aged wizard. 

'Rohan?'

'Yes, you and the young hobbit there will come with me to Rohan, they are in need of some assistance, and I am sure some people there would love to see you both alive and healthy.' 

'When are we to go?'

'As soon as possible!' Brendalin said, and Terry stood. 'Go, both of you, get ready! Battle is on the verge in Rohan.' 

'Shall we bring troops?' 

'No, they are going to be needed in a very short amount of time here. We can not risk having too many die. We have enough troops in Rohan, it is just a question of finding them all.' Brendalin said, 'now hurry, up the stairs, and you,' he said, while Terry and Teredon hurried up the stairs, 'You're going to heal quickly. Do not try to follow, for it would not be in your best interest.' He said, and Param sighed. Brendalin then left, and after a moment Terry came back down the stairs. 

'Bye Pippin, I'll see you later.' 

'Naturally.' Param said with a smile and Terry nodded, going back up the stairs. Param's smile faded, though, and he sat in bed, missing Terry all ready. 

Teredon went quickly to his room and opened up a closet he had not before. In it hung the armor of Gondor, regal in status. The armor itself was made of gold and steel, and over the breastplate and armor of his thigh was a leather tunic, bearing the white tree. The one Elessar had planted long ago had stood until recently, when it started to wilt; only when the fires began to stir in Mordor. The helmet was made of gold of steel, the nosepiece looking of tree roots. It had been a long time since he had worn it, but it was time. 

He put it on and tied his belt around him, placing his sword and knife in their sheaths. He also put on his horn, shield, and finally his helmet, then left out the door. Tedren had just come down the hall to see him, and when she saw what she wore she stopped. 

'You are changed…' she said, and he nodded. 

'Yes, I am. Brendalin has come, I must leave again.' He said, and she sighed. She had not thought he would have to leave this soon. She embraced him, though it was oddly done through the armor, and kissed his cheek. 'I do not want to hear of any more close encounters of death.' She said, and he nodded. 

'Of course, not, you know me.' 

'All too well. I warn you, I'll kill you if you die.' She said, and he smiled. Her odd sense of humor had always calmed him. 

'I imagine you would find a way to do that, yes.' He said, and she nodded. 

'Good bye, good luck.' 

'Good bye, my dear sister.' Teredon said, and left her, hurrying down the hall. She watched him go and turned, tear running down her cheek. When Teredon arrived down at the stables, he found Terry and Brendalin waiting for him, Terry wearing small chain mail. Teredon cocked an eyebrow, wondering from where it came. 

'The weapons smith said it used to be yours when you were a child.' Terry said, reading his face, 'playing soldier, no doubt.' He said, and Teredon nodded, remembering his times doing as Terry had said. 

'Come, now, this is not a time for reminiscing!' Brendalin said, and got onto Starflight, 'we must get to Edoras. Come, lad, there you are, we must hurry.' Teredon got onto his horse, and they sped out of the stables, in the direction for Edoras. 


End file.
